Stutter
by ToastyToaster22
Summary: A collection of AU oneshots. Chapter 13: Amnesia in movies was nothing like this. Chapter 14: There is a little boy in Hikari's new preschool class that looks like sunshine.
1. Holy Heal

**Hey there everybody! Welcome to the inside of my head. Its a strange place.**

 **Stutter will be a collection of AU oneshots, AKA none of what follows is canon to the show, or to my Skittles Universe (Skittles, Strobe and Misunderstanding).**

 **Starting off: This story follows canon up until midway through Adventure 02. After Ken became good again, there was no Holy Stone or BlackWarGreymon story arc. This psycho digimon came in and started messing shit up instead. Enjoy.**

* * *

 _We never should have split up,_ Daisuke thought wildly. It had been a disaster, a complete ambush. He had never seen such an overpowered enemy before. Daisuke had faced digimon controlled by evil rings and false digimon created from dark towers, but never any creature like this. He was used to digimon that fought with their fists, with knives, with fire and ice.

Kyojinmon had blindsided them, knocking Wormmon out with one shot. He never even had the chance to evolve. Tailmon had done her best to distract him while V-mon evolved, and the rest of them ducked for cover. She was doing all she could, but Daisuke was sure that even with the addition of Ex-veemon they didn't have a shot in the dark at winning. With Tailmon's holy ring missing, and Ex-veemon being so young, it was all they could do to defend themselves.

Daisuke thought that with the right distraction, their digimon might be able to land a hit or two, giving them the chance to escape and regroup.

The boy had thrown himself from behind their cover, running headlong towards Kyojinmon and yelling every insult under the sun. Hikari and Ken screamed frantically for him to come back, but with his heart pounding in his ears, they might as well have been silent.

He ran, and for a brief moment Kyojinmon turned, shock at Daisuke's audacity written across his face. Had it actually worked? The chosen child's heart stuttered when the expression on the evil digimon's face changed to manic glee. Attempting to backpedal, Daisuke felt a pang of regret.

Kyojinmon teleported without warning, appearing mere feet from where Daisuke skidded to a stop. The boy stared in eyes lit with insane laughter and felt the world slow to a crawl around him. Kyojinmon was swinging a large syringe straight for his chest. Hikari was screaming, Tailmon running at him full tilt. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Ken frozen in terror, arms tight around Wormmon's unmoving body. There was a moment where Daisuke felt some semblance of peace. At least he would die doing what he did best, being a brave, well-intentioned idiot. He closed his eyes and exhaled…

And was immediately hit by a truck. Or a minivan, or a vehicle of similar mass. He tumbled ass over teakettle, mouth full of dirt, elbows and knees scraped for a good fifteen feet before rolling to a stop. His ears were ringing, head throbbing in an incredibly disorienting manner. It took him a few long seconds to figure out which way was up. When he did, he struggled to pull himself to his knees and gazed around blearily.

Kyojinmon was cackling madly, rolling over himself in midair and holding his stomach in amusement. Daisuke frowned at him. Why was he laughing like he'd won something? Daisuke gave himself a mental once-over. He was probably one big bruise, but he was one hundred percent not dead. And he was pretty sure that was what the digimon had been going for.

He looked to his friends for confirmation that this digimon was indeed a loony. The identical expressions of horror on their faces made his skin crawl. They weren't looking at him though, not exactly. Daisuke followed their gaze to a huge, blue mass crumpled a meter or two to his left.

Ex-veemon.

The syringe stuck out of his back like a massive porcupine quill. Daisuke tripped to his feet and stumbled to his downed digimon. Ex-veemon lay in a loose ball, trembling and twitching. His eyes were screwed shut in what Daisuke could only imagine was severe pain. The dragon digimon did not respond when Daisuke reached out and gently laid his hand on his wing.

"What did you do to him?" Daisuke whipped around, teeth bared at their attacker.

Kyojinmon continued to giggle, but stopped his spinning to look at the chosen child.

"Could have just let me kill you ~!" He singsonged. "Now you get to watch your friend die instead!"

Daisuke blanched, taking a defensive stance in front of his partner.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He retorted fiercely. There was no way Kyojinmon could actually mean that Ex-veemon would be deleted, right? This was… this was different than when Wormmon had given up his energy voluntarily. To see his partner struck down like this…?

Kyojinmon was immediately inches from his face, the same unsettling smile never wavering.

"I mean your friend here goes bye-bye. All his energy sucked dry, his coding slowing falling apart, glitching out all twitchy twitchy!" The digimon pulled back slightly and Daisuke scrambled away from him in disgust. "This stuff's like digital poison!" He tittered, snapping his fingers. The syringe vanished from Ex-veemon's back, and his form blurred momentarily. "Have fun!"

Kyojinmon teleported away.

This time it was Daisuke who was frozen as Ken and Hikari raced towards him. Daisuke couldn't look away from his partner's sporadically pixelating form. Hikari was yelling, grabbing him, calling to Tailmon. She was a blur of sound and motion to him. He dropped to his knees as his partner's form contorted suddenly, a bright flash momentarily blinding him. V-mon now lay before the chosen child.

Daisuke's heart was pounding like he was running a marathon, but he could not move. His whole body was screaming to _fight! Fight this somehow! Win! Do something!_

But there was nothing to do. No digimon ambulance to call, no doctors to heal his partner. He had gotten his best friend killed and he would have to sit here and _watch._

Ken fell to his knees beside him, eyes full of remembered grief. Daisuke did not want to look at him. Leaning forward, he tenderly scooped the twitching V-mon into his lap. The digimon made a soft noise, but did not open his eyes.

Hikari and Tailmon were frantic behind him. They sounded like they were arguing, but it hardly mattered. Nothing mattered. Would V-mon end up an egg in his arms, or would he have to watch his digimon's data float away to be reconfigured somewhere else? Another flash of light sent a jolt of terror though him. Was V-mon devolving again so soon? No. The dragon digimon was still at child level, though the glitching did look like it had intensified.

Daisuke raised his head sluggishly and searched for the source of the light. Hikari was flying away on the recently evolved Nefertimon. Oh. A dull pang of loneliness thudded in his chest. It made sense for her to leave. Why stick around with someone who had gotten his friend killed? Ken was probably only still here because he was lost in his own memories. More things to apologize for.

He sat and cradled his partner's limp form for some time before the poison forced another devolution. At the sight of Chibimon unconscious in his arms, the first tear rolled down the leader's tanned cheek. He did not remember starting to speak, but when the ringing in his ears finally died out, he became aware of the litany of sorry's that were flowing from his mouth. A hand on his shoulder gave him comfort he felt he did not deserve. Ken was too kind. The former emperor had once admitted in a moment of bluntness that Wormmon dying had felt like someone had ripped a chunk of his heart out. That he hadn't even been that fond of his partner at the time, and he couldn't imagine how much it would hurt a chosen who had properly bonded with their partner first. Daisuke couldn't feel Ken's pain to compare, but he did not want to guess. As Chibimon shrunk down to the round form of Chibomon, Daisuke felt a chasm open in his chest. It sat, patiently waiting for the moment to consume him.

Next to him, Ken's head jerked upwards. There was shouting coming from a distance. Huh, he thought mildly. Hikari was back, and she had brought the others. Daisuke couldn't quite decide of that was good or not. On the one hand, he would not be alone when Chibomon passed. On the other, they could be furious at him for causing such an atrocity and would kick him out of the digital world. A familiar voice startled his out of his contemplative stupor.

Taichi-sempai was with them.

If possible, Daisuke's heart broke further. He did not want the boy he looked up to so much see his worst moment.

Nefertimon suddenly dove for the ground, and her unexpected impact nearly sent her remaining passengers tumbling off her back. Halsemon touched down a second or two later with much more grace.

Belatedly, Daisuke realized that Nefertimon had dove because one of her three riders had fallen…or jumped when they were still a good ten feet off the ground. And that person was Takeru. Who was now sprinting in his direction like a man possessed. As he got closer Daisuke saw a desperation on his face that he didn't quite understand. The two of them had never gotten to be close friends, so it would not make sense that Takeru wanted so badly to be near Daisuke now. He would have assumed that the blond boy was angry with him, but there was no trace of anger in his eyes.

The whole group of new arrivals was chasing each other, yelling and gesturing about what, Daisuke couldn't guess. Maybe they were split on whether or not to kick him out of the digital world.

Miyako and Iori jumped off Halsemon's back, looking more bewildered and scared than anything else. But Taichi and Hikari, for the first time Daisuke could recall, appeared to be fighting.

"You little idiot! Come back!" Taichi called, his voice laced with a mix of fear and irritation. He was running, but Hikari was hanging on to his arm, trying to slow him down.

"Onii-chan, please!" She dug in her heels.

Takeru was almost upon him, Patamon clinging to his shoulder and shouting.

"I don't know, Takeru! It might not-"

"Just try, Patamon!"

Daisuke lost them in two blindingly bright flashes of light. Lunging to his feet, Daisuke clutched the shuddering Chibomon to his chest. What on Earth was going on? When he opened his eyes they nearly popped right out of his skull.

Towering over him and shining like a beacon was an eight-winged angel. Before he could process what was happening, the massive digimon crossed his arms and a deep, powerful voice rang out.

"Holy Antidote!"

Daisuke was engulfed in rainbow light. It swirled around him, obscuring his vision for a few long seconds before beginning to fade. The boy stood, stunned. His scrapes were healing in front of his eyes, his headache clearing. His sight returned to normal and he immediately glanced down to the creature in his arms.

Two bright eyes blinked curiously back up at him. No blurred lines, no twitching, no pixels.

"Daisuke, what's wrong?" Chibomon chirped.

Daisuke wanted to whoop with joy, but all that came out was a croaky,

"Nothing, buddy. I'm just happy to see you."

The little digimon snuggled into his chest and made a purring like sound. Relief flooded Daisuke's system. Chibomon was _okay._ The angel had sav-

Daisuke jerked his head up and gaped at the Perfect level digimon that stood before him. That was _Patamon?_

The angel smiled serenely down at him. Then he disappeared in a final burst of light and Tokomon flopped into the grass, exhausted. Daisuke looked around wildly when Iori came over and picked him up instead of Takeru. What had happened to Takeru?

Ah, there he was. The blond boy was laying down on his back a dozen or so feet away with an irate Yagami standing on one side, and a concerned Yagami kneeling on his other. He was awake and appeared to be making weak jokes at his former leader. Daisuke, with Ken following, hurried over.

"-and you guys said _I_ was reckless! You had no idea that would work, Takeru. I'm overjoyed that it did, of course, but attempting a Perfect level evolution without the tag and crest-" Taichi cut himself off, looking suddenly stricken. "What if it hadn't worked, and something terrible happened to you? What then?"

Takeru had the nerve to reply, "Pessimism isn't really my thing, Taichi."

Daisuke planted himself next to Hikari in the grass. She appeared torn between fussing over Takeru, telling her brother to can it, and asking about Chibomon. He decided to give her a hand.

"Hey, Taichi. Lay off," He said, voice still shaky. "He kinda just saved my partner from dying, so how about we not yell at him?" Daisuke looked to his idol semi-apologetically. For once he hoped he made a rather pathetic sight, he knew there were still tear tracks down his cheeks and his eyes were most likely red.

Taichi opened his mouth, but ultimately shut it before saying anything else. He sat down with a grunt next to Takeru's head and buried his face in his hands.

"Yamato is going to kill me," He whispered, sounding so disappointed in himself that Daisuke almost got up to comfort him. Takeru did his best anyway.

"Sorry," He muttered honestly, flopping a rather limp hand upwards and awkwardly patting Taichi's sneaker. "I can tell him if you want. I can even start off with 'Taichi tried to stop me, but I wouldn't listen'."

The others settled down a few feet away, looking apprehensive. No one, except for Taichi, Takeru, and maybe Hikari seemed to have a clue at what had happened. Daisuke was damn sure Taichi had told the new team that all the original chosen children have given up the power to reach Perfect. And what had the high level digimon even done to heal them?

Iori shyly shuffled over to them and held out the sleepy looking Tokomon to Hikari. She smiled warmly at him and placed the little digimon on Takeru's stomach. Takeru's face lit up when he saw his partner, and stroked his long pink ears.

"Good job, buddy. Knew you could do it," He said softly. Tokomon grinned at him and promptly curled up for a nap.

Iori stood beside them expectantly, but when no one was forthcoming, he pushed a question they had all been thinking.

"Was that Patamon's Perfect level evolution?"

Takeru smiled, his eyes glittering with pride.

"That's HolyAngemon, yeah."

"How is that possible?" Iori frowned. "I thought Gennai took the crest powers away?"

Ken and Miyako scooted closer, obviously just as interested. Wormmon was awake and looked as healthy as ever, while Ken held him close to his heart and looked shaken.

Taichi, Takeru and Hikari exchanged unsure glances. Taichi shrugged and shifted positions on the grass.

"He did… Well, I mean it's a complicated story," He started. "The power of the crests comes from inside of us, so it can't really be taken away forever. The tags and crests were given to us to help channel the power from inside us, to the digimon. Without the tools to channel the energy, it just sort of comes out in an uncontrolled burst. It's _not good for you_ ," He looked pointedly at the boy on the ground.

Daisuke turned his gaze to Takeru as well, feeling suddenly guilty. He had kind of thought that Takeru had just run too fast and gotten lightheaded… But upon further inspection the chosen of hope was definitely looking under the weather. His face was flushed, his breathing rather shallow, and looking even closer, Daisuke could see that Takeru was trembling slightly. He could feel the heat radiating off the blond boy even without touching him. Takeru was burning up, absolutely running a fever.

"Dude, are you okay?" He half shouted. Why had Takeru put himself through such a debacle to help him? Logically they all knew that the digimon would be reborn when they died, and of course it was horrible to experience, but they _would_ come back. Daisuke could understand wanting to avoid the death of a friend, but to go as far as to hurt yourself? He was reminded uncomfortably of the day he had received the Digiegg or Friendship. Takeru had almost been killed trying to help rescue Patamon and Agumon, and only Taichi tackling him to the ground had saved him. What was it that drove Takeru to such lengths?

Takeru smiled weakly up at him.

"I'm okay, I just feel like I've got the flu or something. How's Chibomon?"

Daisuke held up the now dozing baby digimon.

"Wait," Miyako interrupted. "Didn't you all use your crest power without the physical tags and crests in your fight against Apocolymon? Why didn't anyone feel sick after that?"

Taichi frowned at his shoes.

"We're not sure. I… I think it had to do with the fact that we had been deleted at the time. Like our physical bodies probably could not handle a tagless Perfect level evolution in the real world. We would probably have to go to the hospital, its just too much stress, too much adrenaline. In the digital world, we're made of data, so there's less of a physical reaction… because we're less substantial I guess. But after we got deleted we hardly existed. The world we were in was… barely there. Just a big white void. I don't think it hurt because there was no real body to feel pain…" Taichi trailed off, looking to his sister for confirmation. She shrugged.

"If you thought that, then why were you trying so hard to get Takeru to stop earlier?" Miyako asked curiously.

Takeru tugged at his shirt, looking anywhere but Taichi.

"Because I didn't think that until _just now_. We had no idea if nothing would happen, or if Takeru would conbust or god knows what," Taichi hissed.

Daisuke gulped. It felt rude, but he just had to ask.

"Takeru why would you risk that for me? For Chibomon?"

Takeru looked him straight in the eye and Daisuke was shocked to see tears filling them.

"I promised myself I wouldn't let anyone else know what it was like to lose their partner. I already failed Ken, so I wasn't about to fail you too."

* * *

 **If anyone was grumpy that Takeru and Daisuke didn't actually get a heart to heart, don't worry. I have many a version of that to come. Also if anyone can tell me who Kyojinmon's speech pattern sounds like, I will dedicate a chapter to you. It was unintentional, but now I can't stop thinking of his voice in a specific way. If anyone cares, I am lazy and Kyojin is Japanese for "mad man".**


	2. Communication

**Haha, that was quick. I have been cranking out writing like nobody's business this week. Whoo! I also have a constant headache from the computer screen, but its worth it.**

 **This is an extended scene from another one of my stories, A Hundred Seconds of Love. It is the whole scene related to #9. You do not need to read that first to understand this. Enjoy Communication: Takeru learns the difference between wanting and needing.**

* * *

The camp was quiet. Only the sounds of the fire crackling disturbed the silence. Takeru peeked an eye open in the dark. It looked like the others were finally asleep, their breathing even and soft. He sat up, careful not to disturb Patamon. The little orange digimon was snoring away, curled up in Takeru's big hat.

The young boy turned his gaze to their leader. Taichi had insisted on taking the first watch, claiming he wasn't tired at all. By the way the older boy was hunched over, Takeru could tell he had been lying. Even Agumon was snoozing away by his side, completely exhausted by his fight with MetalGarurumon.

Takeru sighed, looking around the camp morosely. He missed his onii-chan. He missed his harmonica, and the way he made Gabumon sleep next to him even when it was plenty warm out. He missed the way they would sit side by side and just relax (if they ever had a moment to). Ever since they had been dropped in this new world, his onii-chan had been angry and jealous. Even more so now that they had returned. Always so jealous of Taichi. Yamato didn't like it when Taichi talked to Takeru, when Taichi cheered him on, when Taichi was the first to make sure he was okay.

Takeru _liked_ Taichi. Taichi was loud, and funny, and nice. Their leader never made him feel like a baby, even when he cried all the time. Taichi was just being _nice_ when he did all those things for Takeru. It wasn't like he was doing to purposefully make Yamato mad. Takeru hated it when his onii-chan was upset. He never talked about it. Takeru never knew what to do. Give him a hug? Leave him alone?

The blond boy shook himself. It wouldn't help to get sad about that now. He wiped his eyes on his sleeve and set his face. There was a reason he had pretended to be asleep. He needed to do something. The seven-year-old (he'd be eight in two weeks) bent and rooted through his backpack as quietly as possible. Finding what he'd been searching for, he straightened up and tiptoed towards the fire. Taichi was staring unseeingly at the dancing flames, completely unaware of the child now standing a few feet away on his right.

"Taichi?" Takeru said softly. He did not want to scare the bushy haired boy, but Taichi gave a start anyway and whipped around to face him. Takeru could see the dark bruises on his friend's face, and under the bruises, an expression of exhaustion and worry.

"Hey, Takeru. What's the matter, can't sleep?" The smile Taichi sent him reminded Takeru of the fake ones his onii-chan had been giving him lately. His stomach clenched uncomfortably. He did not want Taichi to smile like that. The chosen of courage patted the grass next to him, offering Takeru a seat.

He didn't take it.

Instead, he held out the objects in his hands. Taichi looked at them and was surprised that the little boy was offering him some bruise cream and a few band-aids, their wrappers wrinkled with age.

"I'm sorry onii-chan hurt you," He whispered. "I'm sorry he made you fight when you didn't want to. I'm sorry he left us, even when you wanted him to stay."

Taichi's eyes widened, but he frowned at the younger boy.

"Takeru, none of those things are your fault. You shouldn't have to apologize for something Yamato did."

Takeru glanced at his feet, rolling the words around in his head before looking Taichi in the eye.

"Just because I didn't hurt you doesn't mean I can't be sorry you got hurt," He said softly but firmly.

His leader stared at him, bewildered. But he eventually looked away from those sincere blue eyes and nodded, mesmerized by the flames again. After nearly a full minute of nothing, Takeru huffed and kneeled in the grass. He pulled open one of the band-aids and placed it gently, if not a bit sloppily on one of the cuts on Taichi's knuckles. The older boy stiffened, but did not pull away as Takeru bandaged up his other hand as well. It was mostly little scrapes, but the gesture was clear.

"You don't have to do that; I can take care of myself. I should be the one watching over you guys," Taichi said. His voice wavered the way Takeru's did when he was trying his very hardest not to cry.

The child of hope froze. _I can take care of myself._ That's what he'd been telling onii-chan all this time. Had it hurt his brother to hear it? It hurt him now to hear it from Taichi. He wanted to help Taichi feel better. Takeru hadn't wanted his onii-chan to think he was still a baby, so he had done his best to show him that he was a big kid too. Maybe onii-chan had wanted to help take care of him just because he _wanted_ to, and not because he felt Takeru couldn't manage on his own. Had he actually pushed his onii-chan away?

He had made everything worse. He had been trying to say _look how big I've gotten_ , but what Yamato had heard was _, I don't need you_.

A sudden sob forced his way out of his throat. Taichi surprised him by turning and yanking him into a tight hug, his hair tickling the side of Takeru's face.

"I'm sorry he's gone again. I know you must miss him," Taichi mumbled into the shoulder of his sweatshirt.

Takeru responded by throwing his arms around the other boy's neck, tears pouring unchecked down his cheeks. He was so tired of the fighting, of Yamato being gone. Of Yamato _leaving_. He wished, not for the first time (and that thought made his heart clench) that Taichi was Yamato instead. Takeru wanted to be hugging his onii-chan, and apologizing to him instead of Taichi. But Taichi was here, and Yamato wasn't, so he would take what he could get.

A sniffle startled Takeru out of his miserable thoughts. He pushed himself back, kneeling in Taichi's lap and staring, horrified at the sight of tears on his fearless leader's face. This was not what he came over here to do. Desperate to fix his mistake, the little boy grabbed for the bruise cream. He hastily scrubbed the tears from his own face, and shakily tried to clean them from Taichi's before clumsily smearing some cream on Taichi's largest bruise. He mostly missed, his hands trembling the way they were. He tried a second time, but it dripped on Taichi's nose, and there was somehow some in his hair already. Takeru's small chest heaved with his choked breathing. He was ruining _everything_. _He had made Taichi_ _cry and Taichi was…Taichi was…_

Laughing? Why was Taichi laughing?

The chosen of courage was shielding himself with his hands from the onslaught of cream the smaller boy was covering him in. There were still tears on his cheeks, but the older boy was chuckling uncontrollably.

"Wow, okay. I get it, my face looks like crap," He sounded amused.

Takeru was frozen in his lap, fingers still dripping with cream. He was so confused. He still felt awful, but Taichi was smiling at him and it no longer looked so forced.

"Man, where did you even get this stuff? It smells so weird," The leader huffed out a final laugh and tried to rub some of the extra cream off his face.

Takeru couldn't move. Everything he was feeling was just too much for his small body to handle. Another wave of tears cascaded down his face. Taichi let out a huge breath, looking fondly at the kid. He pulled Takeru in for another hug, but this one was much more gentle than the last. They stayed that way until Takeru's tears slowed. The fire was close to going out, but neither of them moved to add more wood.

"Feel any better?" Taichi asked quietly.

Takeru nodded sleepily.

"Me too. Thanks for coming to check on me."

The exhausted child yawned and rubbed at his eyes. He sat back on the grass and gazed in confusion at his friend.

"But I made you cry..."

Taichi waved his hand.

"Nah, you didn't. I would've cried even if you didn't come over," He smiled down at Takeru. "You just made sure I didn't cry all by myself, so thank you."

Takeru frowned at the thought of Taichi crying to himself while the rest of them slept. There was a lot he wanted to say to that, but he found himself shrugging instead. His head was drooping in the same direction his eyelids were. The fire at his back was incredibly comforting and the grass felt soft under his fingers…

When he awoke, the sun was just peeking through the trees. The camp was still. Turning his head, he saw Patamon half spilled out of his hat, sleeping peacefully. Turning the other way, he was blocked by a warm wall of scaly orange. Happiness filled his belly and he rolled to lay back to back with the small dinosaur. Taichi didn't need to take care of him. He wanted to.

And Takeru would let him.

* * *

 **As much as I hated it, I think it made a lot of sense that the group split up again after they returned from Earth. They only got a few stress filled days at home before having to turn around and go back to the Digital World. All of them are pretty much at the end of their ropes. Yamato shows it. Mimi shows it. Taichi shows it. I always thought it was amazing that Takeru stayed upbeat through all of it. His brother just left. AGAIN. And he hates the group being separated. He tries SO HARD to protect Hikari and impress Taichi. I just feel like the two of them needed a snuggle break.**

 **If you are wondering where Takeru got the supplies, I imagine Jyou gave him some to keep in his bag seeing as the group kept splitting.**

 **I headcanon that Takeru's birthday is somewhere around August 22nd. Which makes him very technically still seven during the adventure. We do know that he is the youngest of the original group.**


	3. Fever Dreams

***Coughs in embarrassment* Yeah, I said I would have chapter 8 of Skittles up this past weekend, didn't I? Well I fully intended on doing that, but came down with some mutant plague that is ravaging my workplace instead and spent all of Sunday and Monday in bed using many boxes of tissues and watching all of season two of Voltron. (Watch it. That shit's great.) So I am still fighting off some sickness and have been having really messed up Digimon-ish dreams.**

 **This is probably the creepiest thing I will ever write, which by all accounts is probably lame.**

* * *

Takeru walked through the fog unconcerned with the lack of visibility. The others were all around, their shapes hardly distinguishable through the mists, their voices muffled. The bearer of Hope knew where he was going. His best friend of nearly eight years sat at a table where the fog thinned slightly. The boy opened his mouth in greeting, but Hikari did not seem to hear him. She sat facing away from him, as if transfixed on something he could not see. Their friends would not draw near.

Takeru sat in the chair beside her, always happy to see Hikari, even if she was not paying attention to him. He smiled at her; she was so lost in her own thoughts that she hadn't even noticed he had joined her. Not wanting to startle her, Takeru laid a gentle hand on her back.

He immediately pulled it back in horror.

His hand was cold and damp.

Hikari had not moved. Inexplicable terror rose inside Takeru. This meant something. Something important, but his brain was not cooperating. Instead, he stared in disgust as water soaked the back of Hikari's shirt, as if poured from an invisible source. This was _wrong_.

It slowly began to drip off her, and greyish-pink liquid splattered beneath her. The water was unclean. _Tainted._ Her shirt and shorts quickly became saturated, the slow dripping ramping up to a steady stream coming off her clothes. Takeru looked around in horror. Why was no one helping her? His friends seemed to mill about at the edge of his vision, oblivious to his growing panic. Did they not understand the danger here? Takeru could not for the life of him remember what this meant, but he knew it was bad.

Takeru lunged for her the same moment the girl slumped to the table, unconscious. He called to her, yelled for help, but never heard his own words. Water washed over Hikari's head, her short hair clinging to her scalp. Takeru held her to his chest, mind racing for some way to get this to stop.

A flicker of moment made his raise his head from Hikari's limp form. Taichi stood a few feet away, looking disinterestedly at him. It was as if he could not see his sister practically drowning in front of him. The blond boy felt a terrible pressure in his chest, if he could just talk to Taichi, if he could just get Taichi to see her, somehow things would be okay. Taichi always knew what to do. He struggled, the words clogging his throat. His mouth refused to move, and he stared pleadingly up at his former leader. He felt his time running out, water pouring over his arms faster than ever. He strained harder.

"Taichi!" Finally burst from his lips. Yet the older boy simply looked away slightly as if he hadn't heard a thing.

No. No no no _no no_ ….

Takeru nearly screamed in frustration as Hikari's brother casually walked away into the mists and out of sight. He was on his own. He looked back down at his friend in his arms, confusion and trepidation surging through him.

Hikari was glowing.

Takeru had seen her glow before. He knew that. But this was no healthy pink, nor pure white. It was uneven, peeking out in strange patterns beneath her clothes, glowing oddly through her soaked shirt. Ignoring all rules of social conduct, Takeru frantically yanked up the back of her shirt, revealing the smooth skin on her lower back. He froze.

Her entire back was covered in glowing writing. A language that looked similar to digicode, and was equally as unreadable to him. It let off a faint blue wavering light which would have been beautiful if he did not feel waves of malice and corruption rolling off them. Takeru held her tight, overwhelmed by how helpless he felt. Hikari shifted in his arms, the first mewl of discomfort escaping her. Tears prickled in Takeru's eyes as a heavy wave of water seemed to pour over them from nowhere. It stuck to her unnaturally, hanging on her shirt as if unwilling to let go of her. Suddenly her clothes seemed to melt right off her body, leaving her nude in Takeru's lap. But there was nothing alluring or sexual about her nakedness. The boy reeled back in confusion, pulling his sweatshirt off and wrapping her with it the best he could. The cursed writing was everywhere, pulsing in an utterly nauseating manner.

In desperation Takeru whipped his head around, looking for someone who would help. Their friends were barely visible among the fog, but one stood out. Sora was staring at him in the same manner Taichi had. As if this was his one chance to say the right thing, she would fix everything.

Heart pounding in his ears, he opened his mouth to yell to her. A huge wave from above pounded over his head and his arms closed around nothing. Sudden silence nearly deafened him. Eyes trailing downward, they met a devastating scene. The table, the chairs they had been sitting in, Hikari… everything was gone. All he could see was his sodden sweatshirt in a puddle of grey water. A panic unlike anything he had felt before welled in his chest. He looked around franticly. White fog greeted him from every direction. The others were no longer there. _There was nothing anywhere_. All he could hear was his own stuttering breath.

A scream built up in his throat.

Everything went dark.

* * *

Consciousness came slowly, his body and brain fighting each other. His body insisted he needed to sleep again, but something in his mind was protesting violently. He had to get up. Yet his body felt heavier than it ever had, bogged down and tangled in something hot. He was so unbearably hot. Kicking weakly, his sleep-logged mind registered that he was wrapped in a thick blanket. Takeru rolled over clumsily, and heard it slip to the floor. For a moment the lack of stifling heat was welcome, but the cooler air quickly swept away all comfort. He shivered uncontrollably. It was cold.

Cold.

His dream came back in disturbing flashes. The fog. Hikari soaked. Cold, dirty water washing over them both. He felt sick.

Very sick in fact. A sudden clench of his stomach and pressure under his tongue reminded him of why he so urgently needed to wake.

Oh lord, he was going to puke.

Takeru's eyes snapped open in panic and adrenaline forced him off the couch and towards the bathroom. He didn't make it. He did however, manage to veer towards the kitchen sink at the last second. The boy thanked his lucky stars that the room was so dark. He really had no desire to see his own vomit right now. Nausea rolled over him, alternating in hot and cold waves that kept him trembling. His legs felt as if they might give out, and he leaned more of his weight onto the counter. Hikari was in danger. He had to warn her, get to her, protect her somehow… Now that he was awake the dream so obviously reeked of the Dark Ocean. There was no time to waste. Why wasn't he rushing to her?

A light turning on behind him half blinded him, sending his head pounding. He closed his eyes tightly and pressed his forehead to the cool surface of the kitchen counter.

"Oh honey, again?" A warm voice sounded from behind. Takeru turned his head slightly and squinted at the speaker. His mother stood in the doorway to her bedroom, sympathy written all over her face. She was in her bathrobe, slippers padding softly across the tile. With a gentle hand, she rubbed his back, then brushed his sweaty bangs out of his face when he raised his head to see her better.

"Mom?" Takeru asked, his voice hoarse. He was confused. Why hadn't he been in his bedroom? What time was it? He tried to think back, but everything before waking felt fuzzy. He didn't remember coming home from school at all.

Yet Natsuko smiled at him in relief, though he had no clue as to why. Didn't she know that something was terribly wrong? Takeru took a few shuddering breaths and attempted to calm his racing heart.

"Mom, I have to call Hikari," His voice shook with urgency. He had to make sure she was still there. Something in his gut insisted it was too late.

His mother's smile froze, and slowly slipped down into a resigned frown. She fiddled with a cabinet and handed her son a small cup of water. He rinsed his mouth out with half of it, then greedily drank the rest. She filled it a second time and held it in her hand, hesitating before speaking again.

"Takeru, sweetheart why don't you lie down? Come on, I'll help you." She hitched a smile back on her face and guided him to the living room.

He was powerless to resist. He still shook violently, his legs barely cooperating. He needed his mother's help back to the couch much more than a regular fifteen-year-old would like to admit. The chosen of hope collapsed back onto the cushions weakly. He felt awful, but he was still on a mission.

"I have to call Hikari, Mom. I have to make sure she's okay! I have to see!"

Natsuko was decidedly ignoring him as she pulled the blanket over him once more. His words went in one ear and out the other while she tucked him in and placed the cup of water on the coffee table. The only evidence he had of her hearing what he said was the steady change in her facial expression. Her fake, placating smile was pulling tight, straining with some emotion he did not understand.

"Please!" He cried, tears finally dripping onto his cheeks. Why was she doing this?

Her façade cracked at the sight of her son, and sudden tears brimmed in her eyes as well. That startled him enough to stop his pleading. His mother sat heavily beside him and took one of his hot hands in her cool ones. She peered at him curiously, appearing interested by his silence.

"Takeru?" She asked cautiously. "Honey, are you with me?"

Such a question confused him. He felt miserable and she wasn't listening to him, but he was here, wasn't he? What was that supposed to mean?

"Yes?" He answered softly, frowning up at her hopeful face.

Natsuko seemed to sag, squeezing Takeru's hands in hers.

"Oh, thank God," She muttered, closing her eyes for a moment. They stayed that way for a minute or so until Takeru couldn't wait anymore.

"Mom?"

"Yes baby?"

"I need to call Hikari," He said shakily.

She smiled wearily down at him, tears still clinging to her lashes. A long breath escaped her.

"No, sweetheart, Hikari's okay. I promise. It was just a bad dream, nothing more."

"But it wasn't," He urged. She had to understand.

"No, Takeru," Natsuko said a bit more firmly. Then she softened again. "I promise Hikari is fine. She came by to drop off your homework this afternoon, but you were asleep. You have a very high fever," His mother glanced at the clock on the wall. "You've been sick and have been having horrible dreams all night. Do you remember anything at all? You've been pretty out of it."

She rubbed soothing circles on his shoulder with her thumb and he felt his heart finally start to slow. He'd been having fever dreams? Was everything actually okay?

"So Hikari is safe?" He couldn't stop himself from asking once more.

"Yeah. And Yamato is too, he called when he got out of band practice, just like I said he would."

At that Takeru's stomach rolled. Something about that sounded familiar, and not good familiar either.

"What would be wrong with aniki?" The fear was clear in his voice.

"You woke up hours ago, absolutely hysterical, insisting that you had to see him. But he was in practice and I couldn't get him on the phone. You don't remember that at all?"

Takeru shook his head, disturbed at his lack of recollection.

His mother sighed and ran her hand through his hair comfortingly.

"Maybe that's for the best," She whispered. "I told you earlier, but I should probably tell you again. You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow," She peered at the clock. "Well, I suppose its technically in four hours. Why don't you try to get some more sleep? Your fever seems to have come down a little, but you're still hot."

Her hand paused on his forehead. It was so soft and cool compared to his flushed, sweaty face.

"You go back to sleep, honey, I'll stay until you fall asleep. Promise,"

Takeru nodded sleepily, eyelids drooping already.

"Love you."

* * *

 **I have stranger dreams than this on a nightly basis, so I have no real concept of if this is creepy or just too weird to be scary, or what...**

 **If anyone is wondering what kind of AU these last two chapters are: Communication is in my "Taichi actually lets Hikari out of his sight for ten seconds AU" and Fever Dream is in the " Natsuko actually uses her vacation time to take care of her sick chid AU" Obviously they are only very mildly not canon.**


	4. Odaiba Day part 1

**Happy Odaiba Day again guys! Whooooo man, I am being productive this week! This has been in my head for nearly as long as Skittles, but I always had something "more important" to write.**

 **I have never written Ken before. I really tried to get into his head, so let me know how he feels. This takes place a good six to eight months after the end of season two. And I always imagined Daisuke helping Ken out with his guilt issues, but he isn't perfect himself either. He does his best.**

* * *

Recovery is not a linear process.

It's not as simple as waking up and feeling a little better each day. It's not waking up one morning and noticing that suddenly everything is fine. It ebbs and flows. Its three steps forward and two steps back. It creeps. It jumps. It falters and surges.

Ken knew that. Ken was a genius.

So why did it always catch him off guard to wake up and feel completely wretched after over a year of being with the Chosen Children? Even after all the reassurances, even after all the effort they had put into making him feel forgiven and comfortable? Especially Daisuke. That boy bent over backwards and continued to do so to deal with Ken's ongoing issues. How was it that some days he felt so content, and others he woke up dripping with self-hatred again?

And why was it always at the most inconvenient times?

Ken curled up beneath the covers and ignored the persistent beeping of his alarm. Maybe if he plugged his ears hard enough, he could forget about the party and go back to sleep. Maybe he could feel better after he woke up… But he shouldn't blow everyone off. Though he honestly thought they would have a better time without him there.

Ken shut his eyes tightly at the thought of how disappointed Daisuke would be if he didn't show. That thought, more than anything else, was what forced him to pull back the covers and sit hunched on the bed. He felt sweaty and his head throbbed slightly. It had been warm enough in his room even before he burrowed under the covers.

"Are you feeling better, Ken?" A soft voice had him ducking his head, hiding his face behind his eyes. On days like this he could barely stand to look at Wormmon. His head would fill with the constant screamed curses and insults he used to hurl at his partner so carelessly.

Ken swallowed painfully and shook his head. No. No, his partner deserved better than that kind of dismissal. He forced his eyes upward to where the caterpillar digimon was curled at the end of the bed.

"Not really, Wormmon. But thank you," he croaked.

The little digimon saw the effort put into such a statement and practically glowed.

"You're welcome, Ken. Is there anything I can do for you?  
The Chosen of Kindness hesitated, but Wormmon insisted that he always asked because he cared, and for no other reason.

Ken pointed weakly towards the desk.

"Can I have my D3, please?"

The digimon was more than happy to oblige, and brought his phone over as well. His partner knew how much Ken hated seeing his own words written out. Each invitation he declined by email or text was like a visual failure. At least if he called someone, he had control over when to hang up. And it was that kind of day.

Ken dialed Daisuke's number hurriedly, hoping the other boy was still asleep so that he could leave a short message and go back to bed himself.

Daisuke answered on the second ring.

"Hey man, what's up?" He sounded so excited that Ken's throat closed up momentarily. Why was this so _hard?_

"…Hi Daisuke…" Man, what he would give to make it sound like he wasn't about to cry.

On the other end, his friend was instantly alert.

"Ken what's wrong? Is everything okay, dude?" He could hear Chibimon squeaking in the background. Even the squeaking sounded concerned.

"Oh… I just-I… I, no. No, it's a bad day. And I can't go. I'll ruin the party, I know it."

There was silence for a moment before Daisuke spoke up again, voice quiet.

"Do you need me to come over?"

Ken jolted at that.

"No! Daisuke, it's the Odaiba Memorial. You should be there with everyone. Have fun. I just don't think I should be there today. I'm not much company right now, you know?" Wormmon crawled into his lap and he absently stroked the digimon's head.

"I think everyone would be happy to see you. Even if its only for a little while," Daisuke said slowly. It wasn't to guilt Ken. Daisuke would never. But sometimes a reminder that the others did indeed enjoy seeing him was a little push. "Do you think getting out of your room might cheer you up? I know how dark and stuffy it can get in there. Have you opened the curtains yet?"

Ken shrugged, wishing his friend could see the motion through the phone.

"I'm taking that as a no. How about this? Take a shower, open your windows, and have something to eat. If you still feel like you should stay home, fine. But if you think you feel better enough to at least pop your head in, let me know. I'll come down and pick you up, and we have head over to the Yagami's apartment together, okay? I don't want to hear any crap about train wares and being a waste of time, got it?"

Ken made it to the party.

Twenty minutes later, he wished he hadn't.

* * *

The Chosen of Kindness felt incredibly out of place as he and Daisuke squeezed through the crowd around the door. They were late, but no one seemed to care much, tossing cheery greetings at them as they waved. Well, Ken waved. Daisuke and Chibimon called back to each person who said hello, and each digimon as well. The volume grated on Ken's ears. After so many years of rarely speaking outside of interviews, big groups and gatherings tended to overwhelm him.

A few minutes of awkward mingling later, Chibimon and Wormmon got bored and claimed the food table was whispering their names. Daisuke teasingly reminded them to leave some food for the rest of them. Ken forced a smile, but it faded hardly a second later. Wormmon paused, glancing back to his distressed partner.

"Do you want me to stay, Ken? I'm not really that hungry."

Ken swore his heart dropped into his stomach. He didn't deserve this partner who cared so much. Not after what he'd done How could Wormmon stand to look at him after how he'd treated him, screamed at him, _whipped him_? He didn't deserve such kindness.

Heart pounding, he managed to choke out,

"No thank you, I'm fine."

He tried not to acknowledge the shrewd look Daisuke gave him out of the corner of his eye. If he thought about it too much, he would think about everyone who was probably looking at him right now. If he thought about everyone staring while he wasn't looking, he was going to get paranoid again. He'd mentioned the feeling to Daisuke once, the feeling of being in some unseen spotlight. The spikey haired boy had assured him that it was okay for friends to look at each other, and the only person who looked at him weirdly was Miyako. And that was apparently because she had some disgustingly large crush on him. Daisuke's words, not his. But the thought was not something Ken could even begin to comprehend, genius or not.

A hand on his shoulder startled him away from his thoughts. His best friend was peering at him and still trying to appear nonchalant.

"Ken, are you sure you're okay? We can leave if you want, but I'd really like to stay if you can handle it."

Ken felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck. Why was Daisuke so nice to him? How could they all stand to be around him? A tiny voice in the back of his mind cried that he was starting to spiral. That they had told him many, many times why he was forgiven and why he should forgive himself too. But he couldn't remember what those reasons were. The anxiety caused by Daisuke's continuous staring smothered any intelligent thoughts.

"I'm an awful person."

He had not meant to say it out loud. But he had whispered it, and judging by the sudden hard look on Daisuke's face and the way the friendly hand on his shoulder changed to a firm grip… Daisuke had heard.

"Not this crap again," The boy ground out, guiding Ken through the living room and toward a more private corner.

Oops. It looked like he had bypassed his friend's tolerances for trash talking himself. When that happened, Daisuke had one of two reactions: either he got that sad, kicked puppy look and listed off every good thing Ken had ever done… Or he got pissed and tried to snap or shake Ken out of that line of thinking. Ken preferred the puppy route, but he never got to pick. And Daisuke didn't have endless patience.

He was however, thoughtful enough to position himself in front of Ken so that almost no one in the room could see him. Unfortunately, it also put Ken's back to the wall with a huffy, grouchy boy in front, whisper-shouting at him. Ken tried to listen. Honestly, he did. Yet it was very difficult with the happy scenes beyond Daisuke's shoulder distracting him. The giggling digimon stuffing their faces. Piyomon singing Sora's name. Gomamon draped over Jyou's head. It was too much. He couldn't be around such nice, generous people. People who had never done anything as terrible as he had.

His stomach churned. Palmon did a twirl while Mimi clapped. Frustrated tears prickled in his eyes. Patamon snuggled Takeru, cheek to cheek. He felt like he was boiling.

With a Herculean effort, he ripped his gaze back to Daisuke's still whispering face.

"-why you can't forgive yourself?"

Everything snapped into sharp focus at that.

" _Because anyone terrible enough to get their digimon killed deserves the pain that comes with it!"_

Ken's ears rang and his heart thundered in his chest. Daisuke took half a step back, looking staggered. Maybe by what he had said. Maybe because one of the quietest people in the group had just yelled in his face.

Yelled.

Oh lord, he had yelled that.

You could have heard a pin drop, the room was so still. Every head was frozen in his direction. Ken had just enough time to wish he could drop dead before the room exploded into motion.

There were many possibilities of what could happen next, and if Ken had the time, he would have thought them all out and sorted them from "they pity me some more" to "they finally realize I'm a bad person and kick me out forever". What he did not anticipate was an irate blond shoving Daisuke out of the way so that he could grab Ken by the shirt and slam him against the wall. His fist was raised and he looked ready to punch through to the plaster.

Staring into the most furious blue eyes he had ever seen, Ken vowed then and there to never get this close to Yamato Ishida ever again.

* * *

 **Soooo much angst! Haha oops? This will probably be the only two part story in Stutter. I wanted to have it all up for Odaiba day, but I need to sleep.**


	5. Odaiba Day part 2

**Oh my gosh, did I actually meet a self-imposed deadline? Must be a miracle! Honestly, I am amazed I was able to get away from Voltron long enough to do this. Season three was a doozy. Anyway, this part was surprisingly much harder to write than the first part. I suppose with all the different characters interacting, it makes sense.**

* * *

"Take. That. _Back_." Yamato hissed threateningly.

If Ken hadn't been so terrified by the absolute rage in those blue eyes, he would have been completely baffled by these tactics. Daisuke and Miyako had definitely resorted to smacking some sense into him once or twice when he was in dire need of a reality check, but by the way Yamato's knuckles were white and shaking, this was much more of the "knock your teeth out" type of punch. Even for the seriousness of what he had said, this seemed like a bit of an extreme reaction.

Especially seeing as it was Yamato. The one chosen child he had probably interacted with the least. Only a few brief words had been exchanged between the two boys in the past months. In Ken's eyes, Yamato had always been a voice of reason, preferring to listen than to speak. The only times he had seen the older boy in any way chatty or emotive was when Taichi or Takeru had been harassing him.

So why was it that here he was, attempting to murder Ken with his eyes? Why would he care the slightest bit about him talking poorly about himself?

"I said, Take. It. Back!" The older boy tightened his grip on Ken's shirt.

Ken's eyes darted around the room for an explanation, for help, for anything. Most of the chosen and digimon were vaguely clustered around them. Miyako was tugging incessantly on the back of Yamato's jacket, loudly asking what his problem was. Daisuke was fighting Taichi to get back to Ken's side, but the former leader held him off with a hand to his chest. To his shock, even Jyou and Koushiro had uncharacteristically peeved looks on their faces, and they were focused in his direction.

It was Iori who gave him pause. He stood off to the side, mouth open as if he would say something any minute, but instead just kept looking from Ken to whatever was behind Sora's back.

What the hell was going on?

"Take that back, or I give you a black eye and we can start over," Yamato growled.

"Yamato!" Sora's chastising tone was hardly heard over Daisuke's protests.

Take it back? Why? Why was it so scandalizing to everyone that he still blamed himself for Wormmon's demise? In his eyes, it _was_ his fault. What was so bad about saying it out loud?

Taichi managed to pin Daisuke in place with an alpha leader glare and finally turned to Ken. His face was only one degree less terrible than Yamato's.

"Okay, what the hell, Ken? Apologize. That was way out of line and you know it."

Ken's heart stopped.

Apologize.

 _Apologize._

They weren't attacking him because of what he'd said about himself. They were defending someone else.

The realization of what that meant almost made him vomit.

"Wha…?" He breathed in disbelief.

Yamato's face hardened.

"Not good enough."

Ken braced for the blow, but his eyes were locked on the chosen of friendship.

"Stop!" A raw voice interrupted.

That wasn't Daisuke.

Takeru Takaishi skidded into view, eyes wild but focused on his brother.

"Onii-chan, don't! He didn't mean it like that!"

He put his back to Ken and yanked on Yamato's outstretched arm.

His brother's face paled, but remained furious.

"Teeks, this asshole just-"

"I know! But don't do this, let him go," Takeru ducked under his brother's arm and blocked Ken with his body. This close Ken could see that he was trembling, yet his stance was firm.

"Get out of the way, Takeru," Yamato flexed his fist and clenched it again.

Patamon was suddenly on Ken's shoulder, blocking Yamato as well. His wings were flared, ready for a fight. Takeru took a step toward his brother so that they were almost nose to nose.

"Onii-chan. Let. Go. Don't fight over me."

The confirmation sent Ken's stomach dropping down through the floor.

Yamato blanched, pulling back just enough to see his little brother properly. The rest of the room seemed to be holding their breath. Ken had never heard of these brothers fighting.

"If you think I'm just going to stand here and let this shit talk about you like-"

Takeru covered his face with his hands a let out a muffled scream before throwing them out and shoving Yamato just hard enough to make him step back. The shock of the movement had him let go of Ken's shirt.

"Ken doesn't know! None of them do! I didn't tell anyone, okay Yamato? Not even… not even Hikari."

Takeru's posture slumped at the admission. Ken couldn't see his face, but the chosen of hope sounded anguished. Surprise was mirrored in the faces of each of the original chosen. Yamato alone looked suddenly guilty, but it swiftly changed to concern.

Patamon let out a small, pained sound, still perched on Ken's shoulder. His eyes were glued to his partner, face intense. Ken barely even noticed Wormmon crawl onto his knees.

Yamato swallowed loudly, his breath escaping in a hushed sigh.

"I thought after Iori… I thought you would have told everyone. I didn't realize he was keeping it a secret too…"

His voice was softer than Ken could ever remember hearing. Some of the other chosen shuffled back, looking embarrassed. Others looked away, sensing that this was a private conversation. Taichi alone continued staring at Takeru as if he had never seen him properly.

Without the older boy there to stop him, Daisuke stumbled over to Ken and slid down to the floor beside him in a daze.

"What the hell is going on?" Daisuke breathed, eyes stuck on Takeru's back.

Ken almost chuckled, fighting back tears.

"I ruined the party."

Daisuke chose to ignore the statement.

"But like, what are they talking about? I've heard the whole story of what happened from Taichi and he never said anything about anyone's partner getting deleted. When the heck did this happen?"

Patamon leaned forward to look at the confused child, his small face solemn.

"It wasn't long after they arrived in the digital world. Takeru was… heartbroken. The others try not to mention it around him, if at all. It still… upsets him."

Both boys scowled at the understatement.

"No kidding," Daisuke muttered.

Taichi's loud voice brought their attention back to the brothers.

"Takeru, that can't be healthy," Taichi had a stern, disapproving look on his face that had Takeru shying away and hunching his shoulders.

Yamato shot his friend a short frown, then sighed, trying to catch Takeru's eye.

"Teeks, you can't possibly agree with him, can you? What happened was in no way your fault, and you certainly did not _deserve_ to lose Patamon. You have to know that," His voice started off soft, but ended much closer to desperate than he had probably wanted.

The chosen of hope gave a jerky shrug, eyes trained on his socks. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides.

Yamato and Taichi exchanged a slightly disturbed look. Yamato stepped forward, mouth open to speak, but before he could, Takeru did.

"Can we not do this right now?" He hugged himself, eyes darting around the room. Though most of the others were pretending not to listen, they could most likely hear every word. "Just, not now. Please, onii-chan?"

Any remaining frustration drained from Yamato's face at the plea. He raked a hand though his hair, huffing slightly.

"Okay," He murmured, "But we have to talk about it later. I'm not letting this go, got it?"

Takeru gave a small nod. He hesitated, then shuffled in and dropped his head to his brother's chest. Yamato wrapped him in a tight hug, pressing his cheek to his little brother's hair.

Ken had to look away. He would not think about Osamu today. Things had gone badly enough without going there.

Takeru turned his head to get some air.

"Sorry I pushed you."

Yamato snorted lightly.

"Well, sorry I told everybody your secret. Even if I didn't know it was one. Do you want me to take you home?"

A shake of the head was his answer.

"I have to talk to Ken," He sounded resigned to the fact that this debacle wasn't entirely over.

Ken balked. No. No, he did not need to talk to Ken. Ken was perfectly fine hiding over here on the floor and pretending he didn't exist. Maybe he could leave before-

Oh no, he was already coming over.

Takeru slid down on Ken's other side, studiously looking at the floor. He slumped even further than Ken had and brought his knees up to his nose. He looked exhausted. Without a word, Patamon slipped off Ken's shoulder and squeezed into his partner's cramped lap. He nosed his way under Takeru's chin and closed his eyes.

Kens heart pounded in his chest in anticipation. Part of his could not even wrap his head around the fact that someone else in their group had lost their partner. And above all else, that it had been Takeru. The walking sunbeam. Hope personified. How could he seem so happy when such a tragedy had occurred? He wasn't sunny now, and it had honestly been unnerving to see him break down the way he had. And yet there was a tiny part of him, deep in his chest that was… well, happy was not the word for it. But he was not alone anymore. Daisuke was amazing, and listened almost endlessly, but here was someone who actually understood. Even though their situations had been completely different, (and Ken was sure they were) the loss of a partner had probably brought the same kind of pain.

Ken started when Takeru suddenly took a deep breath and turned towards him for the first time. He looked about as wrecked as Ken felt.

"Sorry onii-chan attacked you like that. He'll apologize when he cools off. He usually does."

Ken had to mentally shake himself to get his mouth to unlock.

"It's really okay…"

"It's not, but that was my fault. So. Sorry," He paused, seeming to brace himself for what he would say next. Looking his friend in the eye, he said firmly, "Patamon died."

Ken found himself nodding, not knowing what else to do.

"Yeah. It was… it was a long time ago. And sometimes I think I should be over it, but that's, how do you do that? Its hard. What you said wasn't true. I know its not. Because even after everything you did, no matter how mad I was at you, I would never have wanted Wormmon dying to be your punishment. Because I know. I-I know how much it hurts… and I wouldn't want that for anyone. So you're wrong. You don't deserve it. And neither do I," Takeru stopped, taking in the doubt on Ken's face. "But sometimes its really hard to believe that, huh?"

Ken's eyes watered in gratitude.

"Some days are better than others."

* * *

 **Its interesting that part one came out almost exactly like I wanted it to, and then this part got changed so many times. Originally, Takeru was supposed to fend Yamato off, and then drag Ken off and have a heart to heart... but things just felt unnatural. Takeru didn't get to reconcile with Yamato and that felt weird. I never wanted them to be actually mad at each other. It was just some really emotional shit going down.**

 **I have another version (I swear they are endless) of how the others find out about Patamon dying. Already started writing one where everything is muuuuuch calmer. They're older and its just Takeru, Ken and Daisuke. After that is posted, I have some shorter, funnier stories I want to put up.**


	6. Scars

**Welp. Here it is. My baby. I am indescribably proud of this.**

 **It was fun to have this be back to back with the Odaiba Day story. They cover similar themes but in completely different ways. Ken and Takeru were a crying mess before, and now they're all grown up and power through their pain.**

 **The boys are 15ish.**

* * *

It had been somewhat surprising the first time Takeru offered his mother's apartment for their weekly hangouts. Ken's parents were overjoyed when Takeru started joining him and Daisuke on Friday nights, but they might have underestimated how much noise the addition of another teen boy could contribute. The chosen of kindness had been mortified and apologized profusely when his mother came out of her bedroom to shush them that first night. Takeru and Daisuke offered a sheepish, "Sorry, Mrs. Ichijoji. It won't happen again." The blond boy turned to Ken, suggesting that maybe they start having guy's night at his place. He assured Ken that his mother worked late most nights and they wouldn't be keeping anyone awake if they were up till midnight.

Mrs. Ichijoji was hesitant with the idea of three young boys alone for most of the night, but conceded when Takeru told her that the Hida's and the Inoue's lived in the same building. At least if there was an emergency they had someone they could easily go to.

Natsuko was secretly thrilled that Takeru was finally hanging out with boys his own age when her son asked to have Ken and Daisuke over weekly. But he didn't need to know that. Outwardly, she only nodded her head with a sigh,

"Please don't break anything."

That had been two years ago.

* * *

All in all, it had been a standard, if not above average Friday night.

There had been food. (Daisuke's ramen was shockingly good.)

There had been videogames. (Growing up playing against Yamato, Taichi, and occasionally Koshiro made Takeru a formidable opponent. Daisuke knew endless cheat codes. Ken crushed them both regardless.)

There had even been a little roughhousing, with, and without the digimon. (Chibimon was a merciless tickler and Patamon was hardly any better.)

Tuckered out, their partners lay clustered together on the armchair. They had conked out not long after a movie was popped in. It was a miracle Wormmon was able to sleep when he was sandwiched between such loud snorers.

The three teens sat slumped on the couch, watching a terrible American monster movie with Japanese subtitles. Ken spoke English better than either of the other two and could confirm that yes, these translations were atrocious.

It was late, and Ken was tired. He was more of an "early to bed, early to rise" type of person. His two friends were night owls. They would crawl out of bed in the morning, awakened by the smell of Ken making breakfast, the term 'conscious' being debatable. The spiky haired boy would grouch and grumble until he had a good amount of food in his belly, whereas Takeru would be quite pleasant, but in such a groggy haze that anything he was told went in one ear and out the other.

Despite the weight of his eyelids, contentment swirled in Ken's chest.

Takeru burst into laughter at something on the screen and seemed unable to pull himself together.

"Man, what's your problem? It wasn't _that_ funny," Daisuke tossed a handful of popcorn at the teen in the middle, chuckling lightly himself.

The chosen of hope attempted to sound indignant but fell short, still shaking with suppressed laughter.

"Excuse me, I am allowed to laugh at whatever I want. I'm sorry the joke was so sophisticated that it went over your head."

Daisuke's mouth dropped open, eyes wide in exaggerated offense. Even from where Ken sat, he could see it was fake. Takeru matched his expression, the teens engaged in a bizarre staring competition.

Ken eyed them warily and slowly leaned away. This wasn't going to end well, but as to who-

Takeru. Why did he even wonder anymore? It was always Takeru. He was such an instigator.

Ever so slowly he was reaching towards the discarded popcorn in his lap. The blond brought his hand up and with a flick of his wrist… He nailed Daisuke right in the eye.

The boy yelled dramatically, grabbing at his face and calling betrayal.

"Dude, you cheat! Is this what Yamato teaches you?!"

"I was aiming for your big mouth, you idiot!" Takeru guffawed.

"Jeeze, you'd think playing basketball for so long would make you a better shot."

Ken caught a flicker of mock outrage on Takeru's face before the chosen of hope walloped Daisuke with one of the couch pillows.

"Oh, its ON man!" Daisuke snatched the offending pillow, held it to his shoulder, and jumped. He landed on Takeru and the impact sent him crashing to the left.

In retrospect, Ken should have sat in the middle. Things like this didn't happen when he sat in the middle.

Takeru was thrown into Ken's side, pinning him to the arm of the couch. Though it was jarring, it by no means hurt. Yet sometimes these guys forgot that Ken did not grow up horsing around with siblings, and that his tolerance for physical contact topped out at a brief hug.

The chosen of kindness could honestly say he had never been this close to Takeru. Daisuke was pushing them so close together that Ken could see his friend actually had a couple freckles. And a popcorn kernel stuck in his hair. And a little scar on his temple-

Ken felt like he had been doused in ice water.

A little pale scar. Just below his eyebrow. It was thin and got lost in his hair for the most part, but it was there.

Ken was terrified of it.

He managed to squeeze out of his position and grab the nearly empty popcorn bowl before he heaved. Takeru and Daisuke yelped, throwing themselves away from him, practically ending up in each other's laps and awkwardly sprawled across the cushions.

"Holy shit, man. Did we crush you? Or did I poison you with my ramen?" Daisuke squawked.

Ken shut his eyes and weakly shook his head. Why was he surprised? Takeru took a heck of a hit that day. God, and he hadn't even _flinched._ But there it was. Proof that Ken had once whipped a human. A kid. And he was his _friend_ now?

Uncontrollable tears blurred his vision and he fought the urge to flee to the bathroom. He wanted to. To hide from what he'd done. But his friends deserved better than that. He could feel them waiting for some explanation.

It would be so easy to clam up. To get lost in his memories and remembered self-hate.

Ken forced his arms to put the bowl on the table and push it away from himself. Count to four breathing in… Six out. Stay present.

The breathing quelled his nausea slightly, but did little for the screaming in his head. On some level he was embarrassed to be having an episode in front of Takeru. At least Daisuke dealt with him on a more regular basis. Heck last month Daisuke had to snap him out of it when he practically went catatonic. That little boy had looked _so much_ like Osamu.

At least this time there were no gawking bystanders asking if he was okay while he hyperventilated in public. Just his best friends who, at the moment, had no idea why he was internally freaking out.

"Ken?" Daisuke prodded quietly.

The blue haired boy blew out one last breath and grabbed at the last shreds of courage he had. If he didn't say it now, he would chicken out completely. And Takeru was probably nice enough to let him get away with it.

Trembling lips formed the words, but hardly a whisper escaped them.

Shit.

No, no, no, he could do this.

Ken fisted his hands in his lap and tried again.

"It scarred."

The words fell from his mouth like rocks. He was almost startled when they didn't hit the table in front of him.

Daisuke frowned.

"Ken, I don't know what-"

"Oh."

The absolute certainty in the sound made both Ken and Daisuke's heads snap up to look at their third friend. The blond's face was empty of emotion, something that was so unusual it felt wrong. Takeru wore his heart on his sleeve. Not quite in the way Daisuke did, but he always seemed so… open? Easy to read if you were actually paying attention. Now he was closed off. Ken had no idea what he was thinking, and it set him on edge.

Daisuke peered back and forth between them, mouth open, but not knowing if he was interrupting something. Ken was hesitantly looking at Takeru, who seemed to be looking right through him as if he were not sitting a few feet away.

For a moment no one moved. Then Takeru blinked and deflated slightly. His brow furrowed in a tiny expression of nervousness that was quickly taken over by determination. His whole body filled with tension, as if bracing himself for something. Ken struggled with the urge to lean away. This was not the same Takeru who was goofing around just a moment ago. This was the Takeru who fought for the Digital World. The Takeru who strategized and gave orders, who never gave up.

The chosen of hope sat up properly, catching Ken's eye for the briefest of moments. Ken was startled to see a flicker of fear under the steel. Then Takeru stood woodenly, looking to the floor, to the table, back towards Daisuke.

"Yeah." He monotoned.

Neither of the boys on the couch knew if that was an answered to an unasked question, or if it was just to break the silence.

Still gazing down at the spiky haired teen, Takeru spoke again in that strange, rigid voice.

"Don't… Don't let him go anywhere."

Ken was pretty sure he couldn't have moved if he tried. His insides felt like lead.

"Dude, what are you…?" Daisuke let his question fade when it was evident their friend was not going to answer.

The blond teen stepped forward so stiffly it looked like he had forgotten how bodies were supposed to move. No one said a word as he picked up the barf bowl and walked out of the room.

Daisuke gave Ken a look of both confusion and concern. Ken was unable to respond, too busy tracking the padding of footsteps from the bathroom to the kitchen, a muffled toilet flushing in the background. He lost the footsteps in the sounds of water running and cabinets being opened and closed.

"Ken, are you okay?" Daisuke asked gently.

Said teen gave a one shouldered shrug. To be honest he was terrified. Of what he had done. Of Takeru's lack of reaction. Of losing a friend. He was shaking a little, but he was breathing through it. The scar being there or not didn't change what happened, so why was it such a big deal? Why did it make such a difference? There was endless evidence of the cruelties he had committed in the digital world. There were dark towers left crumbling across most of it. He had stumbled upon quite a few of them, and though he had been filled with disgust at the sight of them, he had never reacted so intensely.

There had been something different about that day. About their fight. Takeru had been so angry. So much angrier than Ken had ever seen him. Ken hadn't cared at the time, but he'd goaded Ken into fighting, (not that Ken had needed much prompting), something that seemed out of character now that he knew the boy. The blue haired teen felt sick again. It had been personal, Ken could see that now. But as to what had set off his friend, he had no idea.

"Here."

The chosen of kindness jolted back as a glass of water appeared in front of him. Startled eyes jerked up to look into the suddenly tired face of his friend.

Takeru patiently waited for Ken to take a few sips before sitting on the coffee table in front of them.

Unable to take it anymore, Daisuke muttered,

"What the hell is going on, guys?"

Takeru slumped forward a little, elbows resting on his knees and looked towards the frustrated teen.

"Daisuke, do you remember that day Iori and I went ahead of everyone to find… the base? And I said Ken and I fought?"

Daisuke nodded, a little peeved at the memory of being left behind, but he kept his mouth shut.

"I lied to you. To everyone. I didn't get that cut when we were escaping the base. I got it when Ken and I were fighting. I, well…" Takeru broke off and caught Ken's eye.

Ken Ichijoji was struck dumb. Beyond the fact that Takeru appeared to be asking permission to tell Daisuke what happened, he lied about the injury? Why would he have done such a thing? Ken felt like screaming. Instead, he said,

"I whipped him."

Daisuke froze, eyes darting back and forth between his friends.

"Shit, man."

Takeru took his reaction in stride, shrugging.

"I deserved it."

The outcry was immediate.

" _How on EARTH-?"_

" _Don't you dare-!"_

Heart thundering in his chest, Ken swallowed in horror. There was no way Takeru seriously believed that.

"Okay, okay," The blond boy held up his hands, a smile somehow creeping onto his face. "So not getting whipped, but I was asking for the fight, Ken. You can't deny that. I deserved some of those bruises. I said some pretty awful things to you. It felt good at the time, you know? But after I felt disgusted with myself for saying and doing what I did," His face had turned grim. "I'm honestly sorry for going after you, Ken. It was one of my worst moments and I can't stand that I did it."

The chosen of kindness gripped the glass of water tightly. He was _apologizing_? In what reality did that make sense?

"Takeru, you don't have to-"

"Yeah, I really do, Ken," Takeru cut him off, suddenly looking agitated. "I had no right to march in there and take everything out on you, when honestly I was mad at myself. I was pissed off and you were just there."

It took a moment for the information to sink in. Ken and Daisuke exchanged a confused glance. Neither one of them understood what Takeru was talking about. At the time, Ken hadn't actually known him, and Daisuke had been absent for most of the day's events. The blue haired teen wasn't sure he wanted to know what could have caused Takeru to be so irate as to take it out on the first person he saw. That was so against how the young man functioned. Daisuke was the one brave enough to ask.

"What the hell made you so mad, man?"

Takeru tensed and gripped the edge of the coffee table. He looked at the wall, stressed. His knee started bouncing.

Silence stretched long enough that Ken almost took pity on Takeru and told him to forget it. He opened his mouth when his friend turned back to them, eyes blazing.

"What do you guys know about Devimon?"

In the chair behind the blond boy, Patamon's blue eyes flew open.

Ken's heart dropped into his stomach. He had heard a year or two back that Tai's group had faced off against Devimon way back when they were kids. Sometimes Ken forgot that Takeru was there from the beginning, that he didn't come in towards the end when Hikari did. Whatever had happened… This was an old hurt.

Daisuke wracked his memory.

"He was the first big bad guy you and Tai's group fought, right? He controlled File Island?"

Takeru gave a curt nod, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I hate him," He ground out.

Ken could read the pain in his friend like a book. His knuckles were white, slight tremors going up his arms from clenching the table so tightly. He stared down at his bouncing knee with an uncharacteristic scowl. When he did look back up at them, Ken's breath stuttered.

There were tears gathering in Takeru's eyes, and he was doing a valiant job at keeping them from falling. Despite this, he appeared anything but sad. He was hurt, and he was furious.

"Patamon died. And it was all Devimon's fault."

Behind him, the little digimon was watching with the most serious look Ken had ever seen on his round face.

Ken's thoughts sputtered into nothingness. Daisuke likewise looked as though his brain had short circuited.

That just didn't compute. There was no way Patamon had been deleted. He had to be joking. Yet his face said otherwise.

"What… What happened? I asked Taichi one time and he just said you guys all worked together and beat him," Daisuke asked in awe.

Takeru snorted mirthlessly.

"That was nice of him."

The boy paused, trying to gauge his friends' reactions.

"Listen, you guys have to understand what it was like back then. There was none of this convenient hopping back and forth in the school computer lab. We were in the digital world for months with no idea how anything worked. And a lot of the digimon weren't being controlled. They were just evil. They wanted to kill us to stay in control. Devimon wanted to kill me," he said firmly.

Daisuke looked at his knees, thinking of all the times Takeru in particular had urged them to destroy a digimon that was endangering people in the real world. Of how hesitant they were, especially Miyako and Iori. How scared Takeru was that they wouldn't be able to protect someone if they weren't willing to kill. Daisuke had been enamored by the thrilling tales Taichi and the other kids had spun, but he had never picked up at the absolute danger they had been in constantly. Seeing Takeru like this was a heck of a reality check.

"What happened?" He repeated softly.

"A bunch of freshly evolved adult levels against a massive age-old demon? It was a massacre. We didn't stand a chance. Patamon hadn't even made it to adult yet. So Devimon came for me, and Patamon got in the way…and he evolved into Angemon for the first time."

Ken balked slightly at Daisuke's next words.

"Dude, the iconic 'angel versus devil' fight? It must have been epic."

To their surprise Takeru choked out a bit of a laugh, ending it in a proud smirk.

"Angemon fucking one-punched him."

"Oh my God, awesome," Daisuke breathed in delight.

Patamon's eyes lit up and puffed out his little chest.

Ken inwardly frowned. He could see where this was going. In order to take out such a powerful creature, Angemon must have used up everything he had. To save his partner.

"I mean, looking back, it was amazing," Takeru agreed quietly. "Angemon used the last bit of energy he had to keep his egg there with me instead of having to go to Primary Village. Though," The boy squinted at the back wall. "Honestly Primary Village was like, right there at the bottom of the mountain… But I appreciate his effort. It meant a lot then."

Reminded of his agonized trek through the digital world, and the time it took to find Primary Village himself, Ken agreed that the effort was worth it. And Takeru had only been seven…

"So," The blond teen interjected. There was no sign of tears now, only a look of honest purpose. "When I saw Devimon was regaining his strength in the dark whirlpool that day… Uh, I was upset. But not at you, Ken. You had no idea what happened and I still took all my anger out on you. I was wrong, and I wanted you to know why."

Patamon was suddenly at Takeru's side, rubbing against him like a cat and crawling onto his lap.

"You've been spending too much time with Yamato, you're too serious, Takeru," The little digimon plopped himself down and tilted his head back to wink at his partner.

Takeru seemed unable to pick an emotion to settle on until a gentle, amused grin relaxed his face. He ran a finger down the digimon's spine and leaned back on one hand. Cocking his head a little, he inquired,

"Were you eavesdropping? That's rude you know?"

Patamon tutted.

"Hard not to sometimes, with ears like these."

Takeru's face puckered.

"You tell me all the time that those are wings and do not in any way help your hearing."

The orange creature shrugged innocently up at him.

Daisuke leaned against the couch cushions, looking at Patamon with newfound respect.

Ken was barely listening. It was a lot to process. It made plenty of sense why Takeru had been in such a rage that day. Ken couldn't blame him in the least. It wasn't quite the same, but if someone resurrected Chimeramon… Ken was sure he would lose his shit as well. Even knowing all that, there was still something niggling at him. Something that continued to make his stomach squirm. No matter how provoked he was, Ken had still hurt Takeru bad enough to scar. There was something awful about that. It would be there forever. A permanent reminder. Lingering… like he was contaminated, or _tainted_.

The chosen of kindness took his eyes off the now empty glass in his hands and looked solidly at his friend.

"Thank you for telling us, Takeru. But it doesn't excuse the fact that I left a mark on you. I'm sorry that you have to live with it always being there," He blew out a long breath. He felt maybe one iota better for saying it.

Takeru's face crinkled.

"Oh, is that what's bothering you? Here," He leaned forward to grab Ken's hand, but stopped when there was resistance from Patamon. He looked down at his partner. "I'm getting up."

The digimon huffed and crawled up to perch on Takeru's shoulder, little claws firmly gripping the fabric of the sweatshirt.

"Here, c'mon," He grasped Ken's hand and pulled him towards the bathroom. Daisuke followed closely.

The chosen of hope flicked the light on and turned to face his friends.

"Yeah, you hit me and left a scar, Ken. But look how faint it is. Most days I don't even notice it," He peered at his own reflection for a moment, seeking it out. "I'm way more upset about being mean to you than I am about getting a scar. And seriously man, its like the smallest one I've got."

Ken started at that. He'd never noticed anything on the blond boy before.

"Look at this thing," Takeru pulled up the leg of his pajama pants and nodded towards a discolored patch on the outside of his knee. "I got that when Mugendramon blew up the building we tried to hide in and we fell into the sewers. One of Hikari's elbows looks pretty similar."

Ken's eyebrows were lost somewhere in his hair and Daisuke chucked appreciatively.

"And this one," Takeru continued, turning around and pulling back the neck of his shirt, revealing a shiny pink mark the size of a quarter on the back of his shoulder. "I got when Metalseadramon tried to burn down the beach hut we were hiding in. I can't be the only one with one of these, but we didn't even notice till that night seeing as we were all unconscious when it happened."

Ken's stomach was clenching and unclenching at the same time and it was making him dizzy. It was obvious Takeru was being honest when he said he didn't care about the scar, but it was also terrifying to hear about how many times he had been injured by someone deliberately attempting to kill him. And he was smiling like it didn't matter.

Takeru tilted his head back and pointed to an odd mark right under his chin.

"That one was when some asshat at my old school thought it would be real funny to foul the heck out of me. I slammed my jaw into the gym floor and broke two fingers."

Daisuke coughed, covering up a comment about basketball being for losers anyway.

"And _this one_ ," Takeru paused, deliberately making eye contact with Ken as he hooked his foot up on the countertop and pulled off his sock. There was a smattering of white marks there all around the ankle bone. " _That_ happened when Aniki tried to teach me how to ride a bike and pushed me too fast."

Ken stared down at the scars. Takeru loved the digital world. He loved basketball. He loved his brother with all his heart. He loved these things despite the marks they left on him. A rush of fondness swelled in him for the young man in front of him.

"Besides," Takeru continued, oblivious to Ken's squirming heart. "Here, get your foot up here in the light, yeah that one."

Ken complied, not sure where this was going. Takeru gently pushed down Ken's sock, revealing his lower shin.

"Yup, I was right," He leaned back against the counter, holding a hand up for a high five from Patamon. "Daisuke got you pretty good with his soccer cleats, huh?"

Ken looked down and gaped at the inch and a half long white line across his skin. He'd never even…

"Jeeze, dude! Sorry about that!" Daisuke yelped, sticking his face in close to inspect the mark.

"You don't hate him for it do you?"

Baffled, Ken shook his head.

"I don't hate you either. Its just a scar. And anyways," A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "Scars make pretty good stories."

And they knew just how much Takeru liked a good story.

* * *

 **The outline for this story was odd and very disjointed. I am ecstatic that I managed to make it flow. It was essentially: Ken flips out seeing the scar. Takeru awkwardly need a minute to deal with the fact that he has to talk about things. The Devimon story. Takeru cheers everyone up by being a goober in the bathroom.**

 **I REFUSE to believe the kids came out of their adventures unblemished. It was one of the main things I wanted to have brought to light, along with the newer kids refusing to kill digimon, and little things like yeah it was sweet that Angemon reformed in front of Takeru, but Primary Village was also RIGHT THERE LOL.**

 **I handwrote this and it was 16 pages. I think only three pages stayed unchanged. And all because of the strangest things. Like they were supposed to be at Ken's house, but then I really wanted Takeru to be sitting on a coffee table and that's a rude thing to do at someone else's house, so I had to completely change the intro so that they had a reason to be at Natsuko's apartment.**

 **Patamon having to be told by Takeru that he needs to move is my whole life with my cat.**


	7. Swim Lessons

**Hah. This went through a lot of phases. First was pretty angsty, then it was going to be mostly funny, then like, story time, and finally went back to being decently angsty. I like it best this way. My last couple chapters have had Takeru handling things somewhat gracefully. Time to ruin that.**

* * *

Miyako's heart stopped right about the same moment her hands left Takeru's chest. Did she expect him to be surprised? Yes. Annoyed? Perhaps. His face twisted in an amusing mixture of 'haha' and 'oh shit'? Sure.

What she did not expect was the sudden overwhelming _panic_ that crossed his face.

Arms flailed, trying to find something to save himself on, but they met only air. For a brief, gut wrenching moment, Takeru was airborne, his feet having lost their purchase on the wet edge of the pool deck. Miyako watched as he went in back first, mouth open in shock.

And then he was under.

The girl's only coherent thought was that she hadn't seen Takeru go in the deep end all day.

* * *

"Where the heck is everyone?" Miyako grouched, squinting around the parking lot. "It's a million degrees out, who wouldn't want to go swimming?" Sweat dripped out from under her straw hat and made its way down the back of her neck. She slapped at it in frustration.

Honestly, she would rather have been at the beach. At least there was a breeze there. But the storm that had brought all this disgusting weather in the first place was still offshore, churning up dangerous riptides. The beach had closed until the currents calmed. So here she was, baking even in the shade of the pool house's roof, waiting for the rest of her friends to arrive.

"Well," A brave soul answered, "Onii-san has band practice, Taichi somehow still has soccer, Koushiro's grandmother is visiting, and Iori has kendo, but he said he might be able to come after."

Miyako slowly turned to level an unimpressed stare at Takeru. He sat on the bench between Hikari and Daisuke, an overly innocent smile gracing his lips. Outwardly, Miyako attempted to project as much distain for his response to her rhetorical question as possible. Inwardly, she was baffled at his ability to track the whereabouts of twelve people on a daily basis. She had a hard time remembering her own siblings' schedules.

"Jyou's probably studying."

Raising an eyebrow, she dared him to continue.

"And Mimi's in America," Takeru supplied, either ignoring or enjoying her ire. "So really we're just waiting for Sora. Tennis practice got out early. Because it's hot."

He rolled his head in the purple haired girl's direction. With the lazy smile he was giving her, Miyako swore he was deliberately baiting her.

"And how is it," Miyako hissed, fanning herself with her sunglasses. "That you look cool as a cucumber over there while I feel like an overcooked pastry?"

Takeru blinked slowly at her, the smile almost fading from his face.

"It's a mirage. I'm frying," He deadpanned.

"Yeah and you stink dude, why are you so close to me?" Daisuke elbowed Takeru in the arm, pulling away from him.

The blond only responded by leaning even more on his friend. Daisuke struggled to push him and his dead weight away with little success. On Daisuke's other side, Ken heaved a long-suffering sigh at the increasingly violent jostling. It wasn't long before he stood, allowing his friends to slump into his vacated spot. The chosen of kindness joined Miyako in standing, the two exchanging an exasperated glance.

Up close, she could see how flushed he was. Dark hair clung to his forehead and his t-shirt stuck to his back. A quick sweep of her friends revealed much of the same. Her eyes lingered on her sole female friend present. Hikari listlessly toyed with the strap of the bag that sat in her lap, her eyes glazed and staring sightlessly across the rapidly filling lot. The flush on her cheeks was darker than on any of the boys'… But not dark enough to make Miyako worry.

Takeru had noticed too, she could tell. Even as he lay propped against Daisuke, (who had promptly declared it too hot to fight, and was now laying in Ken's spot with his arm over his eyes) the chosen of hope had his hand deep in his pocket. His eyes flickered back and forth from his near overheated friend and the vendor at the far end of the parking lot. Miyako would bet her left foot that he was playing with his wallet. As cute as it was to watch Takeru debate with himself about buying Hikari an ice cream, it wouldn't be necessary.

"Sora's here," Ken announced.

Miyako's eyebrows flew up and were lost under her hat.

"Holy crap, she brought Jyou. How the hell did she manage that?"

The rest of the chosen children rose to greet their older friends. Takeru shot Miyako a significant look.

"Sora can be very convincing."

Behind him, Hikari hid a giggle behind her hand.

At the confused look on her face, Takeru offered,

"She spends most of her time reigning in our brothers. Jyou was probably refreshingly easy for her."

* * *

A massive groan escaped Miyako when the whistle sounded. It was the fifteen minute warning that the pool was going to close, and the girl was not ready to leave the paradise that was the cool water. She vaguely considered staying in until the very last minute, but angering the lifeguards was probably not in her best interests. They were already miffed about the chicken fights they had started.

She ducked under one last time and reveled in the feeling of the water washing over her. Coming up, she saw the others already packing up their things. Miyako huffed out another loud breath and reluctantly waded over to the stairs.

The puddles around the pool were warm, the shallow water squelching between her toes. The girl pulled her towel from her bag and wrapped herself with it, ignoring the chatter of her companions. Her towel was warm as well, and frustratingly damp. The water bottle she had packed must have sweat all over it. It had been crammed full of ice that morning, but it had long since melted. She took a few gulps of it anyway. It was nearly as warm as the puddle water and the comparison grossed her out completely.

Miyako wished her heat induced sour mood wouldn't return so quickly. Everyone else seemed refreshed and cheery. Didn't it bother them to leave? How could Daisuke be pulling his shirt back on without even drying off? The thought of having a wet shirt sticking to her nearly made her shudder. Jyou was even putting his socks and shoes back on, and it repulsed her. Miyako yearned for bare feet and soft sand, for leaving the water when she was good and ready, not when some shrill whistle told her go away. The beach was all fresh air and open space. This pool was fine for cooling down, but it hadn't been able to quell her irritation for long.

Her friends moved around her, and she paid them little attention. The world once again returned to a hot, hazy blur.

The group moved along the edge of the pool towards the exit. The frustrated teen tried to focus on her feet and take deep, calming breaths. It might have worked if not for Daisuke and Takeru. They were shoving at each other as they walked behind her, happily bickering about goodness knew what. Miyako could sense Jyou stressing about it, and Sora's exasperated tone further prickled at her nerves.

A particularly forceful shove sent one of the boys banging into her from behind. His foot caught the back of her flip flop and yanked her to an ungraceful stop.

Temper boiling over, Miyako spun in place and shoved right back.

" _Knock it off_!" She howled.

Miyako had been banking on the recipient of her push being Daisuke. They shoved each other around enough that she was sure he'd forgive her quickly. She knew it was an accident, she was just NOT in the mood.

So when Takeru went into the pool with an undignified splash, she had the distinct feeling she had done something very wrong. He'd looked way more than surprised. There had been very real fear in his eyes as he slipped off the edge. Miyako's heart suddenly raced, but she felt frozen, arms still outstretched as if she could still reach out and pull him back.

She flinched at the second splash, and realized that Jyou had just jumped in with all his clothes on, shoes and all. Sora threw down her bags and forced herself to the edge of the pool, dropping to her knees and plunging a hand down at the wavy outline of her friends under the surface. Her hand was out a moment later, handing a pair of glasses to Hikari, who stood closest. Startled and confused, the rest of the younger group backed up a step or two.

Jyou was only under a few seconds before his head popped back out of the water. Takeru came up with him, sputtering and coughing. Sora quickly grabbed Jyou's arm to help hold him up.

The oldest chosen child looked up at her, water streaming from his hair and down his face.

"Thanks, Sora. But I think I can stand. Thank goodness it wasn't the diving area."

Miyako couldn't stop staring at Takeru. She had seen him frustrated. She'd seen him angry. He was often scared, worried about the digital world, or about their friends. In all the time they'd been friends, she didn't think she had ever seen him scared for himself.

Jyou had him under the arms, but it was most likely unnecessary. The chosen of hope was probably strangling him with how tightly he was hanging on. His eyes were wide and glazed, and Miyako could hear the hitch in his raspy breathing.

Sora let out a long breath, looking across the pool and waving away a lifeguard who was half out of his chair in concern. She tutted quietly and extended her hand again.

"Come on, lets get you guys out of there before we get kicked out."

Jyou pulled Takeru away from himself enough to see the younger chosen's face. The chosen of hope relaxed slightly and seemed to become more aware of what was going on. He was still holding onto Jyou's arms much tighter than was necessary.

The flimsiest attempt at a grin Miyako had ever seen crept onto Takeru's face as he blinked at Jyou.

"We gotta stop meeting like this," His voice was a little hoarse and Miyako wondered how much of the pool he had swallowed.

The chosen of reliability frowned at his words.

"Yeah, Takeru, we really do," He sounded dead serious, but not angry at least.

Takeru's smile dropped of his face.

"Yeah," He whispered.

"Here, Takeru, I've got you," Sora helped heave him out of the water and passed him off to Hikari so that she could help Jyou up as well.

Miyako meekly followed to where Hikari had their soaked friend sit on a bench. He complied with a wet splort, appearing increasingly embarrassed as the moment dragged on. Ken gathered the things they'd dropped and placed them to the side of the bench.

The group being so quiet after having been so rowdy was a jarring change. Miyako's stomach churned slightly. The only thing that made her feel less guilty was the remorseful look on Daisuke's face. It had been a team effort she supposed. Hikari looked like there was a lot she wanted to say, but didn't want to attract everyone's attention to herself. She settled for resting a small hand on Takeru's shoulder.

Sora and Jyou made their way over as well, the latter scattering drops of water across the pool deck. He had put his glasses back on, but removed them again to run a hand over his face. He let his hand drop and sighed, fixing the chosen of hope with a shrewd look.

"Takeru, are you okay?"

Said boy raised his head slowly, peering up at his senpai through his dripping bangs. He let out a small damp cough before looking up fully and plastering what he hoped was an easygoing grin on his face.

"I'm fine. The pool tastes way better than the bay did."

While Miyako had no idea what to say to that, it appeared no one else had that issue.

"When the heck did that happen?"

"-seriously not know how to swim?"

"Are you sure you're-"

"-can't possibly be healthy!"

Jyou was loudest, throwing his hand up in frustration.

"Takeru, you can't bank on me or Gommamon being there every time you fall in the water!"

The blond boy's smile was forced, like he was trying to convince Jyou this whole thing was funny.

"Are you saying I shouldn't _rely_ on you, Jyou- senpai?"

Miyako had known Takeru to be able to get out of a lot by making people laugh about the situation… but that was not happening today.

"That's not funny, Takeru! I can't always be there! What if I wasn't here today? Who else here knows you can't swim? Miyako certainly doesn't,"

The purple haired girl cringed. He hadn't said it like he was attacking her, but it hurt to know she was the one that put them in this situation.

Takeru looked away, playing with his hands in his lap and obviously uncomfortable. Miyako didn't know if she had ever seen Takeru get in trouble before. And by the look on his face, he couldn't stand someone being disappointed in him. Hikari squeezed his shoulder slightly. He tilted his head a little to touch his cheek to her hand.

"I'm sorry, Jyou-senpai," He said lowly.

The older boy deflated a bit.

"Its not a matter of being sorry, Takeru. You need to learn how to swim. This summer," His tone was calm, but firm.

The blond boy stiffened and opened his mouth to protest, but Jyou beat him to it.

"No arguments. You're almost fourteen. How many times have you nearly drowned?"

Miyako found herself dearly hoping the number was two. Realistically, in order for what Jyou was saying to be true, this had to have happened before. But as to how many times had Jyou actually fished him out of the water? Oh, please let it be two.

"Takeru."

The boy accepted his fate and sat up to look Jyou in the eye. His knee started bouncing in agitation.

"Four."

"Jesus, dude," Daisuke muttered.

Only Jyou looked unsurprised. Which legitimately shocked Miyako because she thought Takeru told Hikari everything. Yet she seemed just as thrown by this whole situation as the rest of them.

Jyou sighed, and it almost sounded like he was relieved. Like he had been hoping it wouldn't be a higher number.

Sora stepped forward.

"Why don't you have Yamato teach you? He's an amazing swimmer. In fact, why hasn't he taught you before now?"

Takeru's eyes blew wide and he sucked his lips in, deliberately avoiding her eyes.

Sora read him in an instant.

"How on Earth can he not know that you can't swim? He was there twice when you got knocked in," She said incredulously.

The chosen of hope made a face.

"I think he thinks I've learned since then. I mean, I was seven… and it just hasn't come up, okay?" He said remarkably testily seeing as he was talking to Sora, and they were always on great terms.

Miyako wished some of them had walked away. Given the people who knew what was going on some space. She felt awful for not doing it herself. Takeru must have felt ganged up on with all of them standing around staring while he was lectured.

"Takeru, I can understand that, but most seven year olds can at least swim a _little_. Why didn't you learn before that?" Jyou prodded too far.

" _Because_ ," Takeru jumped to his feet, startling them into taking a step back. "Most people start swim lessons when they're four, and when I was four my parents were really busy _getting divorced_ ," He said hotly, not looking anyone in the eye. "And then me and Mom were really busy _moving_ , and then we didn't have the money, and I just never learned, okay?"

There was a half second where no one moved.

Then Takeru's brain caught up with his mouth. He stiffened, and when Sora gently reached out towards him, he took off. He slipped between Sora and Ken effortlessly and was leaving the pool area before half of them could process he had left.

"Damnit," Jyou looked to the sky and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Hikari, Sora, and oddly enough, Daisuke, made moves to follow him, but Miyako interrupted them.

"No, you know what? I got him. My bad, guys. Meet us out in the parking lot in a bit, okay?" She hefted her bag higher on her shoulder and waved her friends down.

Miyako walked quickly towards the exit. Takeru had a decent head start, but he was responsible enough that he wouldn't go too far. He was upset, but he wasn't actually running away.

As she left the pool area and turned toward the park, Miyako couldn't help but feel torn. It was probably for the best that this happened, that Takeru finally learn to swim after this. Telling Yamato would be terrifying, and honestly, for Takeru's sake, she wasn't sure it was necessary. It could save his life to know at least a few basic swimming techniques. On the other hand, this was somewhat traumatizing for the poor kid. They didn't need to escalate it by getting his brother worked up too. She never heard Takeru talk about things from when he was little, or his parents divorce. He had to have really agitated to snap at them the way he did. And now he was probably berating himself for doing so.

Taking a slow scan of the park, it didn't take the girl long to spot her friend. He was quite conspicuous, being soaking wet in his street clothes. She took her time making her way over to the swings to give him some time to cool off. He didn't acknowledge her when she lightly dropped her bag to the grass. Nor when she took the swing next to him.

"Hey," She said casually.

Nothing.

"Hey, Takeru."

He slumped, elbows catching on his knees and burying his face in his hands.

"Can you please go away, Miyako? I'm kind of mortified over here. On so many levels. So like. Please."

Miyako gave him a quiet moment.

"Hey, Takeru?"

The boy groaned and slowly looked over to her, eyes a little more bloodshot than they had been.

"Thank you for respecting my wishes, Miyako, what can I do for you?" He asked sardonically.

"Takeru, how many siblings do I have?"

The chosen of hope's face crumpled, obviously not understanding why they were having a conversation at all.

"Uh, three," He replied.

"Do you know what happens when you have four kids?"Miyako asked softly.

Takeru noted her change in tone and squinted at her.

"What?" He asked, slightly less annoyed.

"Sometimes you forget which kid did what, or who learned this or that, or which one does what after school and whatever. And sometimes things get overlooked. Or people." She said, raising her eyebrows meaningfully.

"Oh," Her friend mumbled. "Yeah, I bet,"

"So," Miyako perked up. "I teach you how to swim, you teach me to ride a bike. How's that sound?"

Takeru sat up fully and gazed at her, a hesitant look on his face.

"It…Its kind of embarrassing to learn to swim when there's always a ton of people at the pool. I feel like they're going to stare, and judge… and I feel stupid somehow. Even if I know its not actually anyone's fault."

The purple haired girl nodded understandingly, but braced herself and gestured over her shoulder towards the pool

"Will it be more embarrassing than getting rescued and freaking out about it?"

A grimace was her only answer.

"Plus, I have to learn to ride a bike in public too. I'm going to be falling all over the place. It's a fair trade. We can both look like idiots, but we're getting something out of it."

Takeru sighed and looked at her, honesty in his eyes.

"Miyako, I don't have a bike to teach you on. Does anyone in your family have one?"

She shrugged.

"We have one at the shop for deliveries, but it has all these baskets and things for holding the stuff. Would that get in the way or make it harder?"

"Mmm, probably. I don't know what to tell you, I mean I know Taichi-"

"Hey, doesn't Jyou-senpai have a bike?" She spoke over Takeru in her sudden inspiration.

"Yeah, he does...?"

Miyako smirked at him.

"How bad do you think he feels about making you cry?"

Takeru balked at her.

"I didn't cry!" He grouched defensively.

"Then why are your eyes all red?"

"I don't know, probably the chlorine!"

Miyako gathered her things and stood in front of him. She extended a hand and gave him a playful wink.

"We don't have to tell him that."

* * *

 **I've never written more than a few sentences about Miyako, so this was interesting, getting in her head. She has always been one of my least favorite characters, and she rarely interacts with Takeru... But I like her here. She is crabby and hates being hot.**

 **I originally had like three pages of the chicken fights, but it was forced and terrible and just not funny. For anyone who wants to know: Jyou refused to play but consented to being referee. Hikari was too shy but played cheerleader on the sidelines with Sora. Ken and Daisuke were beating the crap out of Takeru and Miyako because at this age I headcanon that she is taller than him still and they're kind of unstable using Takeru as a base. Ken and (mostly Daisuke) gloat a lot and Miyako is mad and Takeru mostly doesn't care. Sora finally has HAD ENOUGH OF THEIR SHIT and jumps in, being all YOU UP and pointing at Takeru. And for a second Miyako thinks she means for him to lift her, and is confused because like, he had a hard enough time carrying her? But then Takeru scrambles up on her shoulders because she's practically big sister so it isn't weird for them and they DESTROY the boys. Sora does multiple sports and is around seventeen. They never had a chance.**

 **Part of me feels bad for Jyou. Training to be a doctor and one of his little friends is an idiot, keeps almost drowning, and won't learn to swim because he is embarrassed.**


	8. Fouled

**Happy Birthday to Stutter! I can't believe I have been adding to this for a full year! In celebration, I am writing up a couple of ficlettes and will try to get them all posted today. They're at least half the length of a normal chapter and mostly are just snippets of stories I can't come up with a complete plot for. If anyone wants to borrow one to expand on, feel free to do so, just ask me first or let me know!**

 **I do believe Ittybittymattiecomittee sort of asked to see the basketball foul from Scars. Here you go!**

* * *

Nine and a half year old Takeru Takaishi wondered why opening his eyes felt like waking up. He was awake already, wasn't he? He thought he'd just blinked. So why was he on the floor? Why the heck did it feel like there were spotlights on him? It was so bright and uncomfortably hot.

He blinked a couple more times to try to clear his vision, but it swam nauseatingly. His whole head felt fuzzy like when he was sick, and his ears were roaring. Pounding with his heartbeat.

What on Earth? Why was he looking at someone's shoes?

The boy tried to peel himself off the gym floor and made it to his hands and knees before realizing there was a blurry person running towards him, while a crowd of smaller people backed off. He rubbed a hand to his chin. It was hot and itchy, and he meant to scratch at it, but something wasn't right. When he pulled his hand away, it was smeared with red.

Sudden alarm blazed through the child. He hastily looked down and saw blood dripping onto his new basketball jersey. Could feel it oozing warmly down his neck. Frightened now, he leaned back and yanked both hands up to wipe the blood away. But he froze when he caught sight of his left hand. The world exploded back into clarity.

Two of his fingers were definitely _not supposed to look like that._

Takeru was screaming.

"Woah, woah, son! You're okay. Calm down," His coach was kneeling beside him. "Yoshida, got get the first aid kit, a towel and some ice from the nurse's office."

Takeru did not see how he could be okay. His teeth ached, his whole arm felt like road rash, he was apparently bleeding, and _his fingers were broken?_

"Everybody else go get changed, all right?" The older man called over his shoulder to the rest of the team. "Practice is just about over anyway." He turned back to his young charge. "All right Takaishi, let's see the damage… You gotta stop yelling. Take deep breaths, okay? I'll get you all fixed up."

Takeru sucked in a big breath and tried to focus on Coach Hashimoto, and not on his fingers.

"There you go, kiddo. You're going to be fine. Now let me see that chin for a second."

The chosen of hope breathed heavily through his nose but obediently tilted his head back. Warm fingers prodded at his jaw gently. It stung regardless, and Takeru tried to will away the oncoming tears.

"Hmm, looks like it's just a nasty scrape. Open your mouth for me?"

Takeru's brow furrowed as his coach poked his teeth, they were sore, but didn't bother him all that-

"Ow!" He yelped. That one hurt, and moved when touched.

"Huh, was that loose before today?"

Oh gosh, was it? Had he banged his head hard enough to knock a tooth loose? No, wait. Yes. Yes, he'd been playing with that one all week.

He nodded frantically, eyes still wide and locked on his coach's thoughtful face.

"Oh good, no real damage then."

Takeru's friend and teammate skidded back into the gym then, a pile of supplies in his arms.

"Is Takeru going to be okay, Coach?" He cried, dropping the first aid kit next to them and sitting as well.

"Yup, he'll be right as rain in just a bit. Give me that towel. Thanks."

Takeru stared at his friend Eiji while the older man cleaned him up a bit. The other boy looked half frightened for Takeru, and half excited to be included in the action. Hashimoto wrapped one of the ice packs with a clean part of the towel and told Takeru to hold it to his chin.

"I'd say that might need stitches, but there's no skin there to stitch back together." Coach Hashimoto chuckled to himself. "We'll just wrap it up real good and it should heal on its own."

Eiji let out a sound of utter disgust and Takeru inwardly agreed. He couldn't see the wound, and now he had absolutely no desire to look in a mirror. Despite this, the initial adrenaline from seeing his hand was wearing off and he felt himself slowly calming down. If the coach wasn't urgently insisting he needed to go to the hospital, he couldn't be that bad, right? His whole body just felt hot, throbby, and uncomfortable.

"Hey, Yoshida. Entertain Takaishi for a minute, okay?"

Eiji perked up and saluted the man. The boy hopped to his feet and hurried a few feet away.

"Oh man, it looked so crazy! You were over here, and Haru was right there, and you were running so fast-" Takeru's teammate energetically attempted to re-enact the foul, with full commentary on his thoughts and even slowmo. It was overly dramatic, but effectively distracting from the poking and prodding the coach was doing.

"And then, like, I thought you were dead or something, 'cus for a second you just laid there-"

Takeru let out a shriek as a shooting pain ran up his hand.

"Hey, hey, you did good!" Coach Hashimoto said hurriedly. "See, look. Your hand's all straightened out! Don't worry, I've seen much worse. I could fix dislocated fingers in my sleep, I've done it to so many kids…"

Takeru gazed nervously at his fingers, which though swollen now and definitely bruising, were back in there correct positions. Eiji was still yammering loudly about his run to the nurse's office, and his coach was reminiscing about a particularly nasty foul from his youth, but Takeru ignored them. He watched intently as Hashimoto skillfully wrapped his whole hand, wrapping a second ice pack right onto the back of his hand. This man was obviously a pro. For the first time he felt himself truly settle down. He was in good hands.

* * *

"Here's the phone, honey. You can just put it on the end table when you're done. If you need anything, I'll be in the kitchen, or you can just have Eiji help you, okay?"

Takeru took the phone in his good hand and leaned back on the couch.

"Thanks, Mrs. Yoshida. I will," The chosen of hope said gratefully. He took a moment to snuggle into all the pillows his friend's mother had propped him on. He'd only been to their house a few times, but he enjoyed himself thoroughly each time.

Eiji turned the TV on with the volume low, and politely pretended to ignore Takeru as he dialed a familiar number.

The phone rang, and Eiji flipped past one of Takeru's favorite movies. The blond boy flapped his hand in his friend's direction and whispered,

"Oh! Go back! That one's awesome, can we watch that?"

The dark haired boy switched the channel quickly, giving Takeru a thumbs up.

" _Moshi moshi, Ishida residence. This is Yamato speaking."_

Takeru started at the sudden voice, but recovered in an instant.

"Onii-chan! Hi!" He chirped, happy that his brother was actually home.

"Takeru? Where are you? I don't recognize this number at all," He sounded concerned already and Takeru hadn't even said anything.

"I'm at Eiji's house. Practice got out early today… uh, because. Okay, Onii-chan, can you promise to not freak out?"

There was silence on the other end for a moment and Takeru was pretty sure his brother was somehow already having an aneurysm.

"Honestly, Teeks? No. What's wrong?" He said tersely.

The younger brother sighed with exasperation and fondness. His onii-chan was so easily stressed out.

"I'm okay, I promise, Onii-chan. But someone hit me pretty hard during practice. Coach Hashimoto let everyone out early so he could take me to a clinic. _NOT the emergency room. I did not go to the hospital. I'm okay,"_ He said hurriedly when it sounded like Yamato was going to interrupt in a panic.

"He said he had to take me to make sure I didn't have a concussion. _Which I don't._ And to have someone tape my fingers up better."

Yamato huffed in agitation on the other end of the line.

"Okay, so you don't have a concussion and you did something to some fingers. That tells me nothing, Takeru."

The nine year old smiled in thanks when Mrs. Yoshida placed a glass of water on the table next to him.

"Well, okay, so I broke my pinkie and my ring finger on my left hand, "He listed off. "And I have a big scrape on my chin because I whacked my face on the floor, so it kind of hurts to talk. But I didn't even knock my loose tooth out, so it wasn't that bad I guess. Mrs. Yoshida is making super soft noodles for dinner and, and Onii-chan! She winked and said ice cream would help ice my jaw. You know who she is like? She's so nice, she's just like Sora."

Takeru couldn't help but giggle a little. As much as he liked being thought of as a capable young man, he was hurt and sore, and if someone wanted to spoil him a little… Well who was he to let them down?

Yamato sighed.

"And where's Mom? Is she seriously still at work even when you had to go to the clinic?"

Takeru frowned at the accusatory tone. For a moment he just sat there, poking at the half melted ice pack he was supposed to have on his jaw. Snorting a bit, and trying not to acknowledge the concerned look his friend was sending him, he picked it up and slapped it on a little harder than he should have. He swallowed back a wince at the cold.

"Mom works late Thursday nights. But she's getting out early and she's going to pick me up at eight. She already feels really bad about it. So don't- Don't say anything to her about it, please?"

"I wasn't going to- Wow, Takeru, I think I can feel you pouting at me from here. I won't bother her about it, all right?"

Takeru grinned and nodded, even though the motion sent a drop of chilled water down his sleeve.

"Thanks, Onii-chan."

The line quieted for a minute. The chosen of hope took a moment to check in on the movie. It was still the beginning, so he was happy to know he wasn't missing much.

"Hey, Takeru?"

Takeru hummed in response. It really did hurt to talk this much.

"How about I come visit this weekend? Maybe I can treat you to an ice cream too, if you think you'll still be sore?" Yamato said slyly.

Takeru dropped the ice pack in surprise. Despite seeing each other more often since their digital adventure, it had been close to two months since they'd actually been together.

A painful smile blazed across his face and he bounced forward, almost hopping to his feet.

Eiji flinched in alarm at his unexpected movement.

"I'll still be sore!"

* * *

 **I love Eiji and his mom. Someone has to take are of our baby when Natsuko can't.**


	9. Onajimon

**Um. Okay. So I wanted to have four chapters out today for Stutter's birthday, and it just didn't happen. I had a couple of things that took way longer than they should have, so I only got some of the writing done.**

 **I PROMISE THIS HAS A SECOND PART COMING TOMORROW. I just really have to go to bed.**

* * *

"Okay, but do we actually have any clue what we're looking for?" Daisuke grumbled at his companions.

Ken grimaced. They'd been trudging through a rather disagreeable swath of forest for some time now, and Daisuke was at the end of his rope. The undergrowth was so thick that it was taking them forever to make any significant headway. Their digimon had to be carried. If they evolved there would not be enough room for them to spread their wings, and they likely wouldn't see anything from above the trees. On top of this, unfortunately, the goggle bearer was right. They weren't even sure anything was wrong in the first place.

Elecmon had contacted them, confused and very concerned, saying that there was a huge increase in the amount of eggs appearing in Primary Village. He had asked around and it seemed to match up with a significant decrease in the number of grown digimon in the area. Something was on the warpath, deleting digimon left and right… And somehow not leaving any trace of a battle.

Probably.

There was always the possibility that there was some sort of natural virus that was killing them. If that were the case… The chosen children were not sure there was actually anything they could do. It could be a natural event, but the digimon were scared and rumors were spreading like wildfire that there was a new monster out there.

So here they were, all twelve chosen split into groups of three to cover as much ground as possible, but still feel confident they could defeat an enemy if it came to that.

Ken sighed and exchanged a tired look with Wormmon. There was nothing they could say to make Daisuke feel like this trek was necessary. This was at least the eighth time he'd complained about the quality of the plan. Takeru stopped attempting to placate him around the third time. Ken around the sixth.

Takeru slowed to a stop and looked around, unenthused with their surroundings.

"Look, we've been at this for hours. Why don't we just head back to Primary Village? The sun will be going down pretty soon anyway, and I think we're all hungry. It's not like we have to lie to anyone, we didn't find anything out here."

V-mon perked up from where he had been pretending to nap in Daisuke's arms.

"Food? Yes, I'm hungry. I like this plan."

They chuckled at his sudden alertness.

"Sounds great to me, dude. Lead the way," Daisuke agreed.

Ken nodded, and Wormmon rubbed his stomach with his little claws.

"Mmm, what do you think your mom is making for dinner, Ken?"

Ken didn't get to answer. He opened his mouth, but Patamon froze on Takeru's shoulder.

"What was that?" The little digimon whispered.

Takeru slumped, sounding beyond done with their situation.

"Hopefully nothing, Patamon. Seriously, I'm starving-"

A screech echoed through the trees, followed by a bright flickering light.

The exhausted group thundered through the forest towards it. Finally, the trees thinned enough for them to see what was happening. The boys pulled up short of a small clearing and took cover behind the last of the treeline.

Through the blinding light they could see a small blob in the grass, shrill squeaking escaping its shaking form. It was a Pafumon, and before their very eyes, it disappeared. A shimmer of data swirled away in the wind as the bright light receded.

What remained in the clearing was a little purple digimon, no taller than V-mon. He was giggling and chittering to himself in a rather monkey-ish fashion. His arm was extended in the direction of the deleted digimon, and they realized the bright light had come from his palm.

Takeru frowned at his companions.

"What is this guy?" He mouthed.

Ken and Daisuke shrugged, postures stressed. They weren't sure exactly what the purple digimon had done, other than delete a baby. The spikey haired boy was pissed. Who did this little jerk think he was?

Before his friends could stop him, Daisuke walked into the clearing. The small digimon had been about to leave, and turned around at the sound of footsteps.

"Excuse me," Daisuke said heatedly. "What do you think you're doing?"

The other boys had little choice but to come out into the open as well. It wouldn't do to let the purple creature think Daisuke was an easy target. Wormmon hummed angrily in Ken's arms, and Patamon's wings flared, ready for a fight.

The digimon took them in, and his face slowly transformed from smug to something close to petulant. Like they had rudely interrupted him and his important business.

"I'm Onajimon. I do what I like. But I've never seen digimon like you before. What level are you?"

The purple creature's voice was deeper than expected for so small a digimon.

Ken gazed back warily; the thing unsettled him. There was something eerie about his face. Old almost, though they could have easily assumed it was a child level.

Takeru answered cautiously.

"We aren't digimon. We're human."

"Ah… I wonder…" The digimon flexed and spread his fingers.

"You didn't answer my question. What are you doing?" Daisuke said firmly. A commanding tone like that was usually heard from Taichi, but at sixteen, Daisuke could sound authoritative when he wanted.

Onajimon seemed to be considering his answer.

"Digimon change," He started, appearing to frown at each of their partners in turn. "They get stronger, so they evolve. They change forms. Grow wings, legs, teeth, horns… They grow larger with each evolution. Usually."

He ended on a sour note, flexing his hand again.

The chosen weren't sure where this was going. He hadn't attacked them, but he wasn't being very forthcoming in his answers.

"I don't change. Who would ever know I'm a perfect?"

Takeru took a tiny step back. If he was indeed a perfect level, they wouldn't have much time to react. Even with three against one, it might not be enough. He could see Ken darting worried glances towards Daisuke's back. V-mon had planted himself right in front of his partner, but there wasn't more than ten yards between them and the threat. If that digimon used long-range attacks…

"Everything changes. The seasons, the sky, everything grows. Not me…I evolve, but I look the same, always the same. And I wonder, do humans change?"

There was no time to prepare.

A blast of bright light streamed towards Daisuke. V-mon managed to knock his partner out of the way and onto the ground, but a second blast caught him right in the chest. V-mon roared and ran at Onajimon. The light of two evolutions caught the purple digimon's attention and he quickly dodged Stingmon and Angemon's attacks. Sporadic light blasts kept Takeru and Ken from getting closer to Daisuke, and they had to hide behind trees to avoid being hit. They had no clue what the light did to Daisuke, but he wasn't getting up.

A cry pulled their attention back to the fight. Stingmon was engulfed in light, and before Angemon could get in a hit, Ken's partner fell from the sky.

"Wormmon!" Ken raced to grab his unmoving digimon before Onajimon took a cheap shot.

Which was exactly what he planned on doing, as another blast caught the both of them off guard. Ken and Minomon went sprawling backwards into the undergrowth.

Takeru's heart raced. He couldn't get to any of his friends, and Onajimon was _fast._ Angemon was barely able to avoid the blasts, and it seemed that blocking them would be entirely ineffective. V-mon was trying his best to ensure Daisuke didn't get hit again, but couldn't do much more than drag his partner away a bit. One short blast was enough to devolve a digimon one level and render them nearly unconscious. Two hits to Stingmon. Two de-volutions.

"Angemon! Evolve!" Takeru cried, a shred of a plan forming in his head. He ran out from his cover and charged the enemy from behind.

"I don't think so!" Onajimon cackled, aiming his hand towards the angel digimon.

Takeru tried not to look as HolyAngemon was blasted by light. It was continuous as the angel fell from the air with a pained cry.

Angemon.

Takeru's heart clenched.

Patamon.

He'd make up for this somehow.

Tokomon.

Takeru reached Onajimon and tackled him. The purple digimon had been laughing so much at each de-volution that he had not heard the chosen of hope coming up behind him. The two wrestled in the dirt. Blasts of light flew here and there as Onajimon attempted to get in a hit. Finally, he let out a steady stream of light and Takeru seized his chance.

Grabbing the digimon's thin wrist, he yanked it around and forced the digimon to be caught in the light himself.

For a moment he felt victorious. He hoped that even if the lower levels of this digimon's evolution chain looked the same, there was a good chance a lower level would not have such a devastating power.

The next moment, Onajinmon himself began to glow with his palm, then Takeru as well.

The chosen of hope let go as a squeezing pain rushed through his body. His whole world became a blur of pain and blinding light.

Then it went black.

* * *

 **This isn't finished because I re-wrote it twice already today. Originally only Takeru was going to get hit and it was very different... And then I was in the shower and was like WHAT IF... and had to run and change so much.**


	10. Change

**OH MY GOD THIS THING. This doesn't even remotely resemble the original idea. But this is better. And like, three times as long.**

* * *

A soft, yet insistent tapping on his cheek brought Daisuke Motomiya out of his doze. Eyelids fluttered against the light beyond them. He didn't feel like waking. He didn't want to get up yet. He was perfectly comfortable where he was. Small hands flapped groggily in the direction of whoever was touching him.

"Go 'way, Jun! I don't wanna go to school," He grumbled.

"Daisuke, are you awake? Are you okay?"

The voice gave the boy pause. That was not his sister. Or his mom or dad. He rolled over and heavily pushed himself to his knees. His body felt strange. Tired. He peeked his brown eyes open and blinked a few times to focus them.

Grass.

Why was he outside?

Daisuke scrunched up his face and peered around into the forest. He had no memory of getting here whatsoever. It didn't look like any part of the park he'd been to in Odaiba.

"Daisuke, are you hurt?"

The boy whipped his head towards the voice and came face to face with… a blue dragon thing?

Whatever it was, it was bouncing from foot to foot, an anxious but somewhat relieved look on his small face.

"Oh thank goodness, you're okay! You look different, but you're okay!" The creature threw his arms around Daisuke and almost knocked them back to the ground.

Daisuke was not sure he was awake at all. It could just be a realistic dream. Or as realistic as it could be with a talking dragon.

"Um, yeah. I'm okay?" He patted the energetic dragon on the back a little. It was scaly, but quite warm. Like putting your hand on a rock on a summer's day.

The dragon pulled back, but kept a clawed hand on Daisuke's arm.

"Come on, we gotta check on the others!" The creature kindly helped him to his feet. The boy was surprised to see he was a head or so taller than the dragon. It had looked a lot bigger from the ground.

Before it could scamper off, Daisuke scratched his head.

"So, um, who are you?" He asked curiously. The dragon obviously knew his name and was incredibly friendly, but Daisuke has no idea who, or what, he was talking to. He still wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not.

The blue thing stopped short and turned back to face him.

"Daisuke?"

The boy frowned.

"Yeah, that's my name. But I don't know yours," He grumped.

"But…but I'm your partner. Daisuke, you don't remember me? I'm your digmon," The creature sounded so lost suddenly. So unsure.

"Digimon?" Daisuke screwed up his face. That struck something in his chest. That word sounded familiar. Wait…

"OH YEAH! Digimon! Those things at the convention center that looked all funny! Some people were calling them that," He exclaimed.

The dragon digimon was looking at him curiously. It took a few steps toward him again.

"When was that? When did you see those digimon?"

Daisuke wiggled his hand around.

"Eh, like a few weeks ago? Why?"

The digimon's mouth dropped open, and his red eyes went wide.

"Daisuke… that was years ago," He said bracingly. "You're sixteen now. You don't remember anything? I'm your partner. I'm V-mon."

Daisuke was confused. He looked down at his hands. At his clothes, his shoes, patted his face. He didn't look sixteen. He didn't feel sixteen. An amazing thought occurred to him.

"V-mon! Did I go to THE FUTURE?" He cried. This was so cool! He bounced on his toes with glee.

"What? No, Daisuke. Listen!" V-mon grabbed his hands to hold him still and looked straight into his eyes. "You are Daisuke Motomiya. You are sixteen years old. You are a chosen child. You defend the digital world with a team of friends. I'm your partner. We fight together and beat bad guys. We were fighting an enemy and you got hit… and I thought he just made you smaller, but I think you lost a lot of your memories."

He paused. Daisuke was wide-eyed and trembling. V-mon hoped he hadn't scared his poor partner.

"Daisuke? Are you okay?"

The boy exploded.

"I GROW UP TO BE A SUPERHERO!" He screeched euphorically.

V-mon couldn't help but laugh.

"Uh, yeah, I guess so."

A groan from the clearing cut their celebration short.

"Is that a monster to fight?" Daisuke dropped into a childish fighting stance.

V-mon shook his head, grasped his partner's outstretched arm, and hurried them in the direction of the noise.

"I think it's Ken! He's your best friend and I think he got hit too."

They crossed the clearing quickly and stumbled to a stop. A small, blue haired child lay curled in a ball in the dirt. His face hidden in the tiny digimon he held like a teddy bear.

"Minomon, are you guys okay?" V-mon asked urgently.

The green, bug-like digimon looked up at them in relief.

"Daisuke! V-mon! Ken won't wake up. And he's little again and I don't know why!" He answered breathlessly.

"That's okay! If I can fight bad guys and save the world, I can totally wake somebody up," Daisuke strode forward confidently.

"Uh… okay," Minomon sent V-mon a questioning look.

The dragon digimon sighed.

"He doesn't remember anything that happened in the digital world. Like years back. I tried to tell him what's going on and now he thinks were a team of superheroes."

Daisuke crouched next to the other boy. He didn't want the really cool digimon to know, but he was nervous. He was not the best at making friends… they always thought he as too loud or stopped playing with him when he accidently broke stuff. But his partner said that this person was his best friend, so maybe he got better when he was bigger. He lightly patted the boy's shoulder.

"Hey, uh… Hey, Ken-chaaaaan, its time to wake up now, okay? Ken-chan?"

The child only mumbled softly and curled up further.

That would not do.

"Ken!" Daisuke grabbed his supposed friend's shoulder with both hands and gave him a shake.

Ken gave a start and rolled onto his back, eyes open, but glazed with sleep. He brought his free hand up and rubbed at his face. The child of kindness huffed a sleepy breath and tried to focus on the shadow looming over him.

"…Ryo?"

Minomon paled.

"Oh no."

Ken jolted up, narrowly missing bashing his head into Daisuke's. He wobbled to his feet, wildly taking in his surroundings. He clutched Minomon to himself and began firing questions off too fast for anyone to answer.

"Where are we? What happened to the desert? Minomon, where did Ryo go? I was, I thought I was sick, and my neck-" He desperately grasped at the back of his neck.

"Ken! Ken, its okay! Its over! Ken, calm down, please!" His partner chirped up at him.

The boy slowed and rubbed the back of his neck curiously.

"Minomon…it, it doesn't hurt."

The two of them began talking too softly for Daisuke to hear.

He watched the pair, bewildered.

"Is Ken always so panicky?" He asked V-mon in an undertone.

The digimon hummed.

"He gets upset easily, but you're the best at making him feel better. And you kinda rush into things, and he makes sure you don't do something, uh, silly."

"Huh," Daisuke watched the blue haired boy closely. "Sounds good to me."

Ken walked slowly back over to them, mouth hanging open in shock.

"Um. Minomon says we're sixteen. And we're friends? But I, I don't remember you, or that, or anything…" He said tremulously.

"That's okay! Me neither!" He held out a hand towards the shy child. "I'm Daisuke, and we'll be buddies, 'kay?"

A tiny smile pulled at Ken's lips and he met Daisuke in a short handshake.

"Okay," Ken whispered.

V-mon clapped his hands happily.

"Now we just have to-"

A scream shattered the calm.

"PATAMON!"

The four whipped around to see a small blond boy scrambling to his feet a little ways away.

"Patamon! Onii-chan! Where are you?" He cried, absolutely frantic. "PATAMON!"

Daisuke took a step back, unnerved by this new child's terrified yelling. Ken hastily hid behind him, wide-eyed and wary.

"Patamon! Taichi! Anybod-" His cry was strangled when he caught sight of a white lump nearby. The boy flew to it, dropping to his knees and gently picking up the blob. He cradled the thing to his chest, tears choking his voice.

"Poyomon, what happened? Are you okay? Where did Onii-chan go?"

Daisuke glanced down to his partner.

"Is he one of our friends too? 'Cus he's kinda freaking out and I don't know what to do, actually."

V-mon gave them a reassuring smile, marred slightly by his concern for the other child.

"That's Takeru. You guys stay here, I'll go talk to him."

The blue digimon made his way through the grass to where Takeru was trying to wake his partner.

"Hey, Takeru?" He asked carefully.

The chosen of hope spun around unaware he had company. He guarded the baby digimon the best he could without smushing him.

"Hi, Takeru, I'm V-mon. Do you remember me?" He sat a few feet away, trying to look as un-threatening as possible.

The blond boy shook his head.

"No. Do you know what happened? Where my onii-chan went?"

V-mon shifted an inch or two closer.

"I know what happened, but you need to calm down. What's the last thing you remember?"

Takeru looked down at Poyomon.

"Onii-chan and I were in Shimane. Taichi and Koushiro were helping us fight a bad digimon on the internet. And, and Patamon was going to evolve. But Dioboromon attacked him! He cheated! Patamon was hurt and everyone was yelling, and then I woke up here," He said hurriedly.

V-mon held up his hands, hoping to calm the boy.

"Okay, Takeru, listen to me. Taichi and Yamato beat Dioboromon and everything turned out okay. That was a long time ago."

Takeru wiped a tear away. He gazed at the dragon, puzzled but his words.

"A long time ago?"

"Yes! It was years ago. You're sixteen now, and there's new chosen children," He pointed back to Daisuke, who had been inching towards them. Takeru wasn't so off-putting now that he wasn't screaming. "That's my partner, Daisuke. And Ken and Minomon. They're on your team now."

The chosen of hope frowned unexpectedly.

"What happened to Taichi's team? Why am I on a new team? I like all my friends," He questioned.

"Nothing happened to Taichi or the older kids, I promise! They're just really busy these days, being in college, and so you and Hikari have a new team. We all work together when we can. Today we were all split up looking for a bad digimon. You three were hit by an attack and it made you smaller and you forgot a lot. Does that make sense?"

Takeru shuffled back onto his bottom and put his legs out in front, close enough that they were nearly touching V-mon's foot.

"Onii-chan is in college?" He said in awe.

"Yup."

They sat quietly, Takeru absorbing the information, and V-mon wondering what their next move was.

Ken and Daisuke finally deemed it safe to approach the blond kid. Ken and Minomon tentatively sat in the grass a few feet away while Daisuke thumped himself down right in front of Takeru.

The chosen of hope peered curiously at him.

"You look like Taichi."

Daisuke laughed helplessly and shrugged.

"I don't know who that is, but thanks, I guess? Is that your digimon?" He pointed at the soft blob that was Poyomon. "He looks kinda wimpy. V-mon is much cooler."

"My partner is the best, excuse you! He doesn't usually look like this, but he got hurt, so leave him alone. He turns into a huge, awesome angel, okay?" Takeru defended, moving Poyomon away from Daisuke.

"Huh. That does sound way cooler. So do you want me to wake him up? I woke Ken up, so a little guy like that should be no problem!" He offered, reaching forward.

"Don't! Hey!"

Takeru wasn't fast enough.

"Boop! Time to get up, little dude!"

Daisuke gave Poyomon a hearty poke.

Takeru gasped at his audacity, but a moment later…

"Poyo?"

"POYOMON! You're okay!" Takeru hugged the now awake baby digimon as tightly as he dared.

Daisuke flashed V-mon a double thumbs up.

"Dude, I rock at this hero thing!"

Poyomon looked around at the boys, tiny mouth open with surprise.

"Poyo poyo! Poyo…"

Takeru laughed.

"Poyomon, I have no idea what you're saying. But, do we know these guys?"

The baby digimon nodded.

A sudden though occurred to Daisuke.

"If we got shrunk by some bad guy, where did he go?"

The other two children straightened in alarm, looking around the clearing.

V-mon looked to Takeru.

"Well, Onajimon was attacking Angemon, and you tackled him, Takeru. He was shrinking everyone, and I think you made him shrink himself? There was a lot of light, and then he was gone."

Three pairs of eyes went wide.

"I did?" The chosen of hope weakly pointed at himself.

"Dude, that amazing!" Daisuke threw his hands in the air.

"That's super cool," Ken added quietly.

"You're really cool too, Ken. You tried to protect me when I got hit!" Minomon squeaked.

The chosen of kindness flushed and Daisuke reached over to thump him on the back a few times.

"Man, we have the awesomest team ever! V-mon, I totally saved you too, right?" He asked his digimon eagerly.

"Uh…" The dragon looked guilty suddenly. "Actually, I saved you."

Daisuke hopped to his feet, gesturing at himself.

"No you didn't! I'm little like them!"

V-mon slumped, looking much smaller than usual.

"Sorry, Daisuke…"

The brown haired chosen stopped, face slipping into regret. He slunk over to his partner and lightly patted a hand on his back.

"I didn't mean to yell. I just wanted to be cool too."

Minomon piped up,

"You are cool, Daisuke! When we found Onajimon you marched right up to him, you weren't scared at all! And V-mon knocked you out of the way when he attacked you."

Both Daisuke and V-mon perked up a bit, but deflated again when the bug digimon continued.

"Do we have any way of getting back home? I don't think there was a TV around for miles, and Poyomon and I can't evolve to adult right now."

V-mon made a funny noise.

"We can see if Daisuke can help me evolve, then we could just fly back to Primary Village like we were planning to. I'm so hungry it might not work. But there's no harm in trying."

"Yeah! I can do that! How do I do that?" Daisuke bounced to his feet again.

"Well, uh, take out your digivice. That might help?"

Daisuke's face puckered in confusion.

"What's a digivice?" He asked.

"This," Takeru stood, rooting through the pockets of his shorts. After a second he pulled out a small device with a square screen on it.

Daisuke searched his own pockets, and found a similar object.

Takeru and Daisuke looked back and forth at the two things resting in their hands.

"Why does his look funny?" Takeru asked.

V-mon poked at them.

"When we formed the new team, they got different ones. But you, Ken, and Hikari already had them, so they changed shape to look like the new ones. Yours must have changed back when you got younger."

"Yeah, Ken's changed too," Minomon supplied. His partner had taken his out and was fiddling with it.

"I thought it was Onii-chan's," Ken mumbled.

Minomon froze, but recovered hastily. He rubbed Ken's arm.

"No, its yours Ken. I'm your digimon, and that's your digivice. Nobody else can help me evolve."

"Okay, so like I just point this at you?" Daisuke said, waving the digivice in V-mon's direction.

"We can give it a shot. Ready? V-mon evolve to …" The blue digimon broke off his cry when nothing happened.

"Aw, man, what's wrong with this thing?" The brown haired boy shook the digivice close to his ear, frustration all over his face.

Takeru sighed and sat back down.

"Probably nothing, V-mon's just too hungry. They all are, I bet. I'm so hungry I would even eat natto right now. Well, maybe not," He poked a few buttons on his digivice, peering dejectedly at the screen. "You said everyone was here in the digital world? They must be really far away. I don't see anybody at all."

He flopped onto his back, looking up through the foliage. Poyomon snuggled into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt.

"Gennai sent us home last time… but I don't have a computer to talk to him with. I don't think I know how, even if I did have one. Only Koushiro… Koushiro! I bet Koushiro can talk to Gennai for us! Or actually, he could just take us back… but we don't have any way of finding him. Ugh," He flopped an arm over his eyes.

The group sat in silence, a cool breeze drifting through the trees. From the way the shadows were lengthening, sunset would be upon them soon. Every few minutes Takeru brought his arm up to check if anyone was near enough to show up on the digivice.

Daisuke spent his time fidgeting endlessly. He played with his shoelaces. Picked grass. Poked at V-mon. Groaned periodically and asked if anyone had any ideas.

Ken curled up against a tree and whispered with Minomon.

"Are we going to have to sleep out here?" Daisuke finally asked.

Takeru sat up, trying not to wake Poyomon, who was sleeping again.

"We should probably make a fire. But usually Agumon lights it… or Piyomon, or Gabumon…" The boy petered off, looking truly disheartened. "I don't have a lighter."

 _Beep beep!_

"What was that?" Daisuke jumped at the high-pitched tone that echoed through the trees.

The others got to their feet as well, a wave of hope and anxiety rippling over them.

"It came from right over there," Ken pointed not too far from where he'd been sitting.

Minomon wiggled excitedly in Ken's grip.

"V-mon! It sounded like a D-terminal!"

"Sure did!" The dragon digimon raced over to where Ken was pointing. He hunted around in the undergrowth for a couple tense seconds before giving a cry of joy. "Found it! One of you guys must have dropped it before you were shrunk!"

He raced back to Daisuke's side, the others gathering around as well.

"What's a D-terminal?" Ken asked, very interested by the sleek looking device V-mon held.

"It's how you talk to the other chosen kids. Like email. You can send messages to each other. It beeped because someone sent you something," Minomon explained.

Takeru let out a strangled laugh.

"That would have been helpful before, huh, Poyomon?" His partner had woken to the commotion and was peeping happily.

V-mon flipped the screen open. A small box blinked in the corner, signaling a new message.

"Hey, look! It's mine, see? It's got my name on it!" Daisuke poked the message box excitedly. "Let me read it."

V-mon handed him the device and the others squeezed in around him, trying to read as well.

"It says," Daisuke spoke slowly as he read the small text. "' _Daisuke, please respond. Everyone else has checked in, and is heading home, but we never heard from your group. Takeru and Ken are not returning our messages. Is everything okay? –Taichi'"_

Takeru was nearly jumping up and down in delight.

"Its Taichi! Tell him to come get us!"

"Poyo!"

"Haha, okay, okay! How do I send something back?" Daisuke giggled.

V-mon pressed a button and a reply box appeared.

"Okay, what should I say?"

Ken leaned over Daisuke's shoulder to read as he typed.

"Uh, tell Taichi that everybody is okay. And we beat the bad guy. Our digimon are just too tired to get us back, so they need to come pick us up," Takeru listed off on his fingers.

"Tell them we're a four hour walk from Primary Village. Our group went south," V-mon added.

It took Daisuke a few minutes to get the message sent, but the response was almost immediate.

' _We'll be right there. What happened?'_

"Um. If I tell this guy we turned into little kids and forgot everything, is he going to freak out?" Daisuke questioned his partner.

V-mon and Minomon exchanged a look.

Poyomon peeped to get everyone's attention and nodded.

"How about I just say it's a long story? 'Cus I don't even remember what happened, and I don't know how to make it sound like its not a big deal?"

"Sounds good to me," Takeru shrugged.

* * *

The occasional belly rumbling was the only thing that punctuated another half an hour of the boys waiting.

"I'm hungry enough to eat my shirt," Daisuke growled. "I'd eat the grass, but I've tried that before and its nasty."

Ken sat up and looked at the boy in disgust and dismay.

"You've eaten grass?"

Daisuke made a face.

"Who hasn't?"

The chosen of kindness looked to Takeru for confirmation. The blond boy picked a blade from the ground and flicked it away.

"Its gross."

Ken shook his head and laid back down. A short silence reigned over them.

"I accidently licked bubble soap once," Ken said, giggling a bit at his own admission.

"That stuff is the worst," Daisuke exclaimed, sticking his tongue out.

"Absolutely," Takeru made a face at the memory. Out of habit, he took a glance at his digivice. He shot to his feet the next second. "Somebody is coming! Really fast too! Wow!"

The other boys scrambled over to see for themselves. Indeed, three dots were heading in their direction.

Moments later a soft buzzing filled the air, getting louder and louder.

"Taichi's here!" Takeru searched what he could see of the sky through the leaves of the canopy.

A dark shadow fell over the clearing and Daisuke almost tripped over his own feet in his attempt to get away from the huge creature bearing down on them.

"What the heck is that thing?" He cried, taking shelter behind V-mon. Ken wasn't far behind, dragging a protesting Minomon with him.

A massive bug creature dropped down through the trees, easily the scariest thing Daisuke had ever seen. He liked to think of himself as a brave kid, but holy mackerel, Takeru was running _toward_ the horrifying monster.

"Its Kabuterimon! And Koushiro, and Taichi!" He waved wildly with both hands as he ran to where they were landing. "And..." He let out an elated gasp. "ONII-CHAN!"

Three young men were sliding down from the beetle's back, a small dinosaur and a funny little horned creature with them as well.

All of them were staring slack jawed at the child running towards them. The blond one staggered forward to meet Takeru halfway. The chosen of hope threw himself at his brother when he was close enough. Yamato managed to catch him and swing him into his arms, gobsmacked at the turn of events. Takeru crushed him in a hug long enough for the chosen of friendship to send Taichi and Koushiro a bewildered look.

The younger blond pushed back to look at his brother.

"Onii-chan, you're so tall! Your hair looks so different," He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Is your ear pierced?"

"Ta-Takeru? What the hell?" Was all Yamato could stammer out.

Takeru called back over his shoulder to where his friends were trying not to be noticed.

"Ken! Daisuke! Its okay, they're on my team! I mean my old team? Uh, this is my onii-chan and our friends!" He called.

"Holy shit, look. They're kids too," Taichi said, dumbstruck.

"What kind of anomaly could have caused something like this? Is it temporary? What, how, how are we going to explain this to their parents?" Koushiro ran his hands through his hair in agitation as the other boys neared.

Daisuke marched up to the young man in the middle. Finally, he had found someone with crazier hair than he had. He looked back and forth from Takeru to the chosen in front of him.

"Are you Taichi?" He asked seriously.

Taichi nodded.

"You don't remember me, bud?"

"No, but Takeru said I look like you. Are we friends too?"

"Of course we are, Daisuke. You're my soccer buddy. I gave you my leader goggles," Taichi gave him a proud smile.

The little boy gaped.

"You're the leader of your team?"

"Yup."

"And I'm the leader of my team?"

"You bet, kiddo."

Daisuke's heart soared. He danced around and held up his hands for double high-fives, which Taichi gladly gave.

"You hear that, guys!? I get to be the leader! Now get me up on that scary bug guy, because I am this close to eating my shoes! Come on, V-mon!"

He waved at Ken to follow him.

Koushiro had crouched down to greet the quiet boy.

"You okay, Ken?"

The chosen of kindness shrugged.

"I guess so. I don't remember anybody but Minomon. And I am hungry too."

The redhead smiled encouragingly at the boy.

"That's okay, we remember you, and we're good friends. Us geniuses have to stick together, right?" He winked.

Ken's violet eyes went round at the implication.

"I'm a genius?" He asked in awe.

Minomon nodded cheerily.

"You're so smart, Ken!"

Koushiro rummaged through a shoulder bag he was carrying and pulled a handheld game system from it. He pressed a couple buttons on it and handed it to the child. Ken was amazed to see his own name on the high score screen. Second place.

"I just beat you a few days ago. Think you can get your spot back?" Koushiro grinned at him and wiggled his eyebrows.

"I can try…" Ken said in a hushed voice.

He let Koushiro help him up onto the back of Kabuterimon, Minomon and the game clutched tightly in his small hands.

Taichi sat next to Daisuke, an overwhelmed look on his face. The young boy was bouncing in anticipation, and Taichi had a constant hold on the back of his shirt. Agumon seemed to be absorbing his energy and was getting worked up as well.

"I can't wait to go! We're going to fly so fast! It's going to be great, Taichi!"

Koushiro settled Ken down in the middle, a hand on his shoulder to help him balance.

On his other side, Takeru sat in his brother's lap, head tilted all the way back and chattering almost as loud as Daisuke.

"Am I taller than you?"

Yamato chuckled and exchanged a fond look with Gabumon.

"No."

"Am I taller than Daddy?"

"No."

"Are _you_ taller than Daddy?"

"Yes."

"No fair! Am I taller than Mama?"

"You're like the same."

"Am I taller than _anybody?_ " Takeru cried in dismay.

Yamato paused, peering down at his tiny and incredibly frustrated brother.

"You're taller than Hikari."

"FINALLY."

* * *

 **The whole "de-aging" thing has been in my head as long as Skittles. So to see this completed is a huge space opened up in my brain. There was so much I was planning on saying, and I can remember precisely zilch of it.**

 **Oh, uh, so I could either go the route where the boys' bodies are the only thing that shrunk, but I would have to deal with their clothes being too big and they would still have their D-terminals and it was just weird. Or I could have them shrink and it was more like they went back in time and lost their D-terminals, their digivices reverted if possible, and they lost about eight years of memory.**

 **Originally it was just a rude digimon with a Napoleon complex and he just made digimon that were bigger than him disappear. And he went after Angemon, and Takeru ran and got caught in the beam and only him and Poyomon shrunk. And Ken and Daisuke had to figure out how to tell the others.**

 **Obviously I have no plan to get the boys back to normal. If anyone wants to figure out how and finish the story, let me know.**


	11. Ten and a Half

**So this... this is my sad fic. With a happy ending because we all need that. If the format bothers you, its not all this way.**

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, seven years old, came home from school.

Unlocked the door.

Took off his shoes.

Made himself a snack.

Unpacked his school bag.

Did his homework.

Microwaved dinner.

Watched TV.

Crawled into bed and slept.

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, eight years old, came home from school.

Unlocked the door.

Dropped his shoes on the rack.

Ate a piece of fruit.

Did his homework.

Watched TV.

Cooked some noodles.

Wrapped some for his mother.

Played a videogame.

Went to bed.

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, nine and a quarter years old, came home from school.

Unlocked the door.

Toed off his shoes.

Tossed his backpack on the couch.

Did his homework at the coffee table.

Microwaved dinner.

Put in a load of laundry.

Wrapped a plate for his mother.

If Takeru Takaichi, nine and a quarter years old, stayed up past his bedtime to read, no one would know.

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, nine and three quarters years old, came home from school.

Unlocked the door.

Put his shoes on the rack.

Dumped his backpack in a kitchen chair.

Ate a cookie.

Did his homework.

Listened to some music.

Cooked dumplings.

Ate half.

Put half in the fridge for his mother.

Watched a movie.

Waited in bed for the sound of the door.

Fell asleep too soon.

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, ten and a half years old, came home from school.

Took off his shoes.

Dropped his backpack in the kitchen.

Stood there.

Walked into his bedroom.

Looked around.

Stopped in front of his mother's bedroom door.

Waited.

Picked up his backpack.

Dumped his school things on his bed.

Packed his bag.

Put his shoes back on.

Closed the door behind him.

Paused.

Unlocked the door.

Took off his shoes.

Made noodles.

Put them in the fridge for his mother.

Put his shoes back on.

Left.

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, ten and a half years old, stood in front of his father's apartment.

Took out his key.

Unlocked the door.

Took off his shoes.

Walked into the kitchen.

Called hello.

Waited.

Waited.

Waited.

Takeru Takaishi fell to his knees and cried.

* * *

Yamato Ishida, fourteen years old, came home from band practice.

Unlocked the door.

Turned on the hallway light.

Dropped his shoes on the rack.

Paused.

Yamato frowned. The small shoes next to his were Takeru's. No one else had such brightly colored footwear.

He looked searchingly into the apartment. All the lights were off, just like they normally would be. There was no indication that anyone was home. No sounds beyond the humming of the refrigerator.

"Hello?" He called as he picked up his guitar case and walked into the kitchen.

No voice answered him.

A prickle of anxiety settled itself in the teen's chest.

"Takeru, are you here?"

He turned on the kitchen lights. Nothing was out of place, no note on the table, no sign of his little brother. Yamato leaned his guitar case on the back of the couch, scanning the dim living room as he went. He flicked on the hallway lights. There was no one in the bathroom. His father's door was closed as usual, but so was his. No light peeked out from under either of them.

Concern swirled in the chosen of friendship's stomach.

Yamato made his decision.

He opened his door quietly, on the off chance that his brother was asleep. It was only eight-thirty, but the older boy hoped that would explain the lack of lights and response. As to why he was here in the first place would be another question entirely.

"Teeks? You in here?" He cautiously clicked on his desk light.

There was a little brother sized lump under his covers.

A soft sigh escapes his lips.

"Teeks, are you awake?" Yamato made his way to his own bed and sat on the edge.

There was movement under the blankets that he supposed was a head shaking.

"Did something happen? No one is hurt, right?" He had to know. The teen was sure that if something awful had occurred, someone would have let him know. But still, there was a reason Takeru was here and hiding.

"No," Takeru's voice was choked and stuffy.

Yamato felt guilty that the answer relieved some of his anxiety. He shouldn't be happy when his brother was obviously upset about something, but for a moment he had been scared that something might have happened to their mom.

"Then what's the matter, squirt?" The chosen of friendship gave the blanket a light tug. "I'm happy to see you, but what are you doing here?"

A couple heaving breaths sounded from under the blankets before they yanked back.

Yamato's heart broke a little looking at the tearstained face of his baby brother. His face was flushed, and his hair wild, solid indications that he had been under the blankets for some time.

"Nobody's _anywhere_ anymore!" Takeru suddenly sobbed violently. One of his hands fisted in the covers, while he messily wiped at his cheeks with the other. "I know- I know Mom has to work, but I, I miss her a lot and the house is always so _empty_ and it- its _quiet_ and I hate it!"

He pushed himself to his knees to breathe easier, huge gulping breaths seizing in his chest.

Yamato didn't know how to solve this. He knew they both hated being alone, but while he tended to sulk and vent in his songs, Takeru didn't have that outlet. The teen pushed a pillow behind his back and leaned into the headboard.

"Come here." He opened his arms.

Takeru dropped onto Yamato's chest with a wail.

"I know Mom's home sometimes! And I have basketball some days, so I'm busy too. And we have Sundays together, but she's trying to get a promotion, so she's working more late nights. It just _feels_ like she is never home anymore. Today I came home and I was so lonely and- and I came here! But then nobody was here either, and I don't know what to do!" The boy poured his heart out.

Yamato squeezed him tight, pressing his nose into his brother's static fluffed hair.

"I just miss you and Dad so much! And Hikari, and Taichi, and Sora, and I- we live so far away. Everyone lives all together here, and I'm all by myself."

The chosen of friendship wished there was something he could do about that. It was only a fifteen minute drive to Setagaya… if you had a car. With all the stops, it was close to forty five on the train. It was a decent haul for the kid to come to Odaiba.

He pulled his knees up, doing his best to surround his brother with comfort. Takeru wiped his nose on the sleeve of his- Yamato realized Takeru must have pulled this sweatshirt from his dresser. Takeru was swimming in it and certainly did not own anything _black_. He would make sure to wash it before wearing it himself.

"I'm sorry, Teeks. It won't be forever. Until Mom gets promoted, is there someone you can hang out with after school?"

Takeru calmed himself a tad, hiccupping here and there.

"I mean, Eiji's mom lets me come over whenever I want, and Ryota lives right down the street… But its not the same. I want Mom. And you… and Patamon."

Yamato rubbed a hand through his little brother's hair.

"Yeah…"

* * *

Natsuko Takaishi, forty-three years old, came home from work.

Unlocked the door.

Took off her shoes.

Left her purse on the table.

Crept to her son's room.

Sat on his bed.

Ran a tender hand through his hair.

Woke her baby.

Told him she did not get the promotion.

She was transferred.

* * *

Takeru Takaishi, eleven years old, walked home from school with his friends.

Had a snack with Iori and his grandfather.

Went upstairs.

Unlocked his door.

Left his shoes on the rack.

Put on one of his brother's CDs.

Tidied his room.

Answered the door.

Had a study session with Miyako.

Started dinner.

Greeted his mother when she came home.

Told her about his day.

Finished his homework.

Kissed his mom goodnight.

Takeru Takaishi, eleven years old, went to bed with a smile.

* * *

 **Takeru saying "nobody's anywhere anymore!" is just me when my fiancé is away on business and I like, couldn't get a friend to come over to keep me company.**

 **I imagine Takeru calls the other chosen kids all the time, but is probably still lonely in between seasons 1 and 2.**

 **I want to write adorable fics where Miyako comes up to do her homework at Takeru's all the time, because her house is SO LOUD and she can't focus. And Takeru's house is always so blessedly quiet. And Takeru not so subtly loves the company.**


	12. New Friends

**Sooooo. I had more than three stories I have been thinking about and planning on writing this week... But then around noon today I was dancing around and had the sudden desire to write really happy, funny, dancey things. Who wants to see Takeru being a shit and also being a mosh pit master? Apparently me.**

 **This is REALLY AU. No Digimon. Takeru and his mom never moved to Setagaya, so Takeru and Hikari have been friends forever. Daisuke grew up in Tamachi with Ken, and they're BFFs. Hikari is a lot more confident, having Takeru there all the time to cheer her on helped. Knife of Day is getting to be HELLA FAMOUS.**

* * *

Daisuke slumped into his assigned seat in homeroom with a huff. He dropped his backpack to the floor and nudged it under the desk with his foot. He must have misread the clock in the hall. The sixteen-year-old thought he was going to be late for class and had forgone stopping by his locker in order to make it on time… But he looked again and realized he had another five minutes. Which was not quite enough time to go out to his locker and back, seeing as he had been assigned one in a different hallway. Hopefully the teacher just wouldn't notice.

The boy groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. It wasn't that he was in a bad mood, it was just that this school was similar enough to his old one to get his guard down, and different enough to get him completely turned around. The only consolation was that Ken was not here yet, he'd nag him into putting his bag away for sure.

It was both a major blessing that Ken was here with him…

(They'd been friends for nearly a decade now. Complete opposites, but a perfect balance of personalities. Their fathers worked together, and after finding out they had similarly aged sons, introduced them. The world was never the same. After bonding over their love for soccer, they became nearly inseparable. They had plenty of other friends, but when it came down to it, they felt more like brothers most of the time.)

And somehow a curse.

(Because their fathers' company was opening a new branch here in Odaiba and wanted some of his senior management to staff it, both of their families had moved. One kid transferring schools in the middle of the year was odd, but also an opportunity to start fresh and make new friends. But two friends starting together… None of the other students seemed up to the challenge of befriending a pair already so close. Daisuke was aware how casual the two of them were with each other, and they often spoke entirely in inside jokes. For the other senior high students, they probably appeared to be speaking their own language. He could see where it could be off-putting, but… )

Having his best friend in the whole world here with him had inadvertently made it so that neither of them had made any _new_ friends.

Ken was fine with that. He never was the most social creature. A few boys on their soccer team and a couple casual classroom friends had been more than enough for the blue-haired boy. Daisuke on the other hand, was a complete extrovert. He craved a big group of friends to adventure with. They had made some acquaintances in each of their classes, but so far none of them had made a gesture in getting to know them. When Daisuke asked if they wanted to join him over the weekend, they all had reasonable excuses. It didn't seem like they were actively avoiding him, but it bothered him nonetheless.

He didn't understand how it was possible to be in a school with hundreds of other kids his age and not be able to find someone with similar interests besides one sport.

Maybe some higher power took pity on him, because as he sat there agonizing, someone tripped over the strap of the backpack he thought he had pushed under his desk. The boy managed to catch himself on the desk across from Daisuke, but in doing so, dropped his notebook and other school materials.

"Oh shoot, man, are you okay?" Daisuke rushed to help the kid pick up his now scattered belongings.

Daisuke wracked his memory for this kid's name. They had homeroom, chemistry, and at least one other class together, but they hadn't spoken much. He always seemed friendly and helpful, but as they didn't sit next to each other, and he wasn't on the soccer team, Daisuke had limited interactions with him. All he could remember was that the kid hung out with a pretty, short haired girl all the time. They seemed as familiar with each other as Ken and himself. He didn't know if they were long time friends or dating, but they both seemed really nice.

The blond kid laughed it off, stooping to help grab his things before someone else tripped over them.

"Its no problem. I'm definitely awake now. I was having one of those zombie mornings, you know?"

The mahogany haired teen chuckled along.

"Been there."

He reached for what he thought was the blond kid's phone and paused, turning it over in his hands.

There was a very familiar logo printed on the phone case.

"You like Knife of Day?" He stood and handed the items back to their owner.

A funny look crossed the kid's face, but it disappeared in a bright smile a second later.

"Sure do. Do you?"

Daisuke beamed. Finally, something to talk about with a new person.

"Yeah, man! They're great! Did you know they started right here in Odaiba? They've had a couple name changes, but I always liked their music. I had tickets to see them like, two years ago, when they really started getting famous, but I got sick and couldn't go. It was the _worst!_ Now that they're touring a lot of the time, it's hard to catch them when they're around. _"_

He broke off when he realized he was rambling. Luckily, his new friend (even if he couldn't remember his name) seemed more amused by his enthusiasm than anything else.

Daisuke was saved from his potential embarrassment when a petit girl came over and greeted them.

"Good morning, Takeru. Good morning, Motomiya-san," She sent Daisuke a shy smile and sat in the chair from the desk the blond kid was leaning on. Which, now that Daisuke thought about it, was hers.

The blond boy, _Takeru,_ he corrected himself, grinned happily down at his friend.

"Good morning to you, Hikari. Guess what?"

For a sad moment, the teen was afraid Takeru and Hikari were going to start their own conversation and leave him behind. But instead, Takeru said,

"Motomiya-san here is a big Knife of Day fan."

Daisuke's chest loosened and he interjected before Hikari could respond.

"You can call me Daisuke, I don't mind."

They both nodded politely at him.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself before," Takeru apologized. "I'm Takaishi Takeru, and this is my best friend, Yagami Hikari."

Inwardly, Daisuke beamed. There was finally progress making friends. They didn't have to do everything together, but at the very least he had someone to share music with. Ken liked Knife of Day quite a bit himself, but could never match Daisuke's exuberance.

"Daisuke says he's never gone to one of their concerts," Takeru continued casually, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he looked to Hikari. Like he was sharing his own personal joke with her, and her only. Now Daisuke could feel first hand how it felt to be the outsider. He got the feeling there was nothing malicious about whatever they were sharing, so he did his best to ignore it. "What do you think we should do about that?"

The small girl let out an exasperated giggle, brown eyes rolling up at her friend.

"I don't mind, Takeru. Go ahead."

Takeru lit up like a Christmas tree. There was something utterly gleeful about his smile.

"Do you want to come with us to the concert on Friday?" He offered.

Daisuke's eyes bugged out.

"Dude. That's so friggin nice. But that show has been sold out for weeks. I can't get tickets now," The teenager was screaming in his head. Why hadn't he bumped into these guys right when he transferred? There might have been a few tickets left, and it would have probably been a blast.

Takeru seemed unfazed.

"Don't worry about it, I have extra tickets. Your friend Ichijoji-san can come too, if he wants."

Daisuke Motomiya thought his heart might have stopped. He couldn't believe this. Who on earth just gave away tickets for a sold-out show to a guy he just met? He stood in a wide-eyed stupor until a familiar voice called out to him.

"Good morning, Daisuke. Uh, is everything okay? You look really pale," Ken hurried to his side, concern emanating from him in waves.

"I… He just- And we…" Daisuke swallowed disbelievingly. "This is Takeru and Hikari, and they just offered us tickets to the Knife of Day concert on Friday," He managed to utter somewhat coherently.

Ken looked at the pair sharply.

"Those tickets were sold out over a month ago. I don't understand," He said warily. Daisuke could be a little gullible and if these guys thought they could pull a prank on his best friend, they had another thing coming.

"Its really okay!" Takeru said emphatically, a bit thrown by the suspicious look on the newcomer's face. "We have two tickets we weren't using. You don't have to take them if you don't want to."

Ken backed his glare down. The boy seemed genuine enough.

"Can we go?" Daisuke bounced in anticipation.

Ken managed a bewildered laugh.

"I don't know why you're asking me, I didn't make any plans."

The bell rang then, startling the four of them. Ken and Takeru hustled to their seats, and Daisuke dropped into his, not paying any attention to roll call.

"Here," A voice whispered. "We're meeting at my place at six, okay?" Hikari leaned over and discreetly flicked a piece of paper onto his desk.

The teen read it eagerly. It was an address, and a cell phone number. For the smallest moment, his cheeks reddened at the thought of getting a beautiful girl's number. But in parentheses next to the digits, a small word was scribbled.

 _Takeru's._

Daisuke chuckled. Hikari was smart.

* * *

A few days later, Daisuke was standing in an unfamiliar living room, waiting for Hikari to get ready, and clutching a confusing piece of paper.

Ken asked the question before he could.

"Takeru, we really appreciate you inviting us… but I have to ask. Are these tickets legitimate? There's no price on them, or a seat number. We fully intended on paying you back, but I mean, only if they're real."

From where he sat on the back of the couch, Takeru chuckled. He was wearing a white Knife of Day t-shirt. One neither Ken nor Daisuke had ever seen in a store or online. They were almost always black or at least a darker color. When they asked, he had smirked and said it was limited edition. Ken began to wonder if Takeru was a big enough fan to try to forge tickets…

"There's no seat number because they're for the mosh pit," He smiled mischievously at them.

"These must have cost a fortune! I've never been able to afford tickets on the floor before. Takeru, man, I don't know if I can pay you back for a while," Daisuke cried worriedly. Ken's thoughts ran right along the same line.

Hikari emerged from the bathroom, still in the process of tying her hair back.

"Don't you dare let them pay you, Takeru!" She called to the boy, shooting him an impressive frown. He put his hands up placatingly, but she talked over him as he stammered a response. "Those didn't cost us anything, so don't give him a single yen."

The girl stuffed a few items into a small, over the shoulder purse, and looked to the thunderstruck duo.

"Are we ready to go?"

* * *

In the four days Daisuke had been getting to know Takeru, he learned some pretty basic stuff. Takeru played on the basketball team, despite being a solid inch shorter than himself, and a good three shorter than Ken. Takeru stunk at chemistry, so if Daisuke ever wanted homework help, it had better be for their literature class. He learned that the bright blond hair was indeed natural, and that his mother and grandparents were also blond.

As he jumped around in the mosh pit, he learned two more things. One: Takeru knew every word to every song that played and was very likely a bigger fan than himself. Two: Takeru had been to _a lot_ of concerts.

He moved the four of them through the crush of bodies expertly, easily getting them closer to the barrier than Daisuke had ever dreamed. The blond boy was by no means big, but he knew how to push his weight around so that there was a tight bubble of space where Hikari could dance without being smothered.

Daisuke danced his heart out.

All in all, the concert was a wild success and Daisuke felt lighter and happier than he had in months. Knife of Day was amazing live. He and Ken had made two really interesting new friends. They didn't have to pay for this amazing experience. What more could he ask for?

Eventually, the band left the stage and the lights came back on. Daisuke was sweaty and his ears rang annoyingly, but he felt elated. They stood around a little while until enough people had left the floor to let them move around without pushing anyone.

Ken nodded to Daisuke and pointed a thumb towards the exit.

Apparently, Takeru had other things in mind.

"Grab them," He snatched Hikari's small hand in his.

Hikari whipped a hand out and grasped Ken's wrist in a surprisingly firm grip.

Takeru began to tow them through the crowd and Daisuke started, lurching forward a grabbing Ken's other hand before they got separated.

"Hey! Where are we going?" He called forward.

Either Takeru couldn't hear him, or he was being ignored.

The confused teen let himself be pulled through the throngs of concertgoers milling around. They were moving parallel to the stage, not heading towards any exit. They cleared the crowd and turned right when they reached the edge of the pit. The only thing over here was-

Ken jerked to a stop, yanking everyone to a halt with him.

"Takeru, where do you think you're going?" He accused. "We can't go in there. We don't have backstage passes. I don't even think they were offered for this venue," Ken waved an agitated hand at the Staff Only door in front of them.

Daisuke didn't want to fight, but he was with Ken. The concert was fantastic, but it was time to go home. They didn't need to get in trouble. He did not want to be upset with Takeru, but if his new friend was this reckless, maybe he needed to reconsider some things.

Takeru just grinned at them.

"Come on, it'll be-"

Hikari cut him off with a hand on his arm.

"They don't think its funny, Takeru. Stop messing with them, please," She said softly.

The blond teen frowned then, and looked back to his new friends. He took in their worried faces and uncomfortable postures. Takeru took a deep breath, sounding more somber and sincere than they had heard him yet.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak you out or anything. But I promise," He paused, a hand on his chest. "I _promise_ if we go back there we will not get in trouble. I'm serious. If you guys want to be done, that's fine with me, but I am going in."

Takeru turned around and walked toward the door. Hikari sent them a bittersweet smile, following after the blond.

Ken and Daisuke exchanged a long look. How the heck were they supposed to trust the word of someone they had only known for a week? They had no evidence that Takeru wouldn't be thrown out on his ass by security. Hikari went with him, but they'd been friends for so long, maybe she was used to him getting her in trouble.

Finally, after a few long seconds, curiosity go the better of them. The two boys hastened after them, uncertainty still heavy in their stomachs.

Takeru reached the door and peeked back at them, face breaking out into a huge smile when he saw they were coming.

"If we get arrested, I'm telling the police it was all your idea," Daisuke threatened, pointing a finger in Takeru's face.

He nodded.

"All my fault. Promise."

He pushed the door open.

They filed into the hallway, steps echoing in the silence. The door slammed shut with an almighty clang, Ken and Daisuke cringing. They were so going to get caught. It was a miracle this hall was even empty.

Daisuke froze when a huge bouncer came around the corner, eyes fixed on the four teens.

Ken's face was filled with nothing but regret. He grabbed Daisuke's wrist lightly, as if they could still run away and make it.

Takeru was walking straight up to the scary looking man like they weren't illegally trespassing.

To their complete and utter shock, the bouncer just smiled at Takeru, and held up his massive hand for a high-five, which the boy was more than happy to supply.

"Hey, Kimura! Great show tonight! Anything fun happen?" The blond boy gushed energetically.

"Nah," Kimura flapped a hand casually. "Someone tried to climb over the barrier, but I tossed him back into the pit."

Both of them laughed.

"I don't know how I missed that one, we were right up there too," Takeru scratched his head.

"It's 'cus you're so shrimpy. I don't know how you see the stage at all from in there."

Hikari hid a giggle behind her hand at the affronted look on her best friend's face.

"You be nice, or I'll reassign you to bathroom duty, or something equally as unpleasant," Takeru playfully wagged a finger at the man twice his size.

The bouncer suddenly look over in Daisuke and Ken's direction.

"Are those statues with you?"

Takeru cracked up at the dumbfounded expressions on their faces.

"Yeah, they're with me."

Hikari smacked his arm.

"Its not funny."

"Its really funny."

Hikari cracked a grin.

"Okay, it's a little funny now."

Daisuke let out the breath he'd been holding.

"I don't understand what's happening."

Takeru took a skip of a step further down the hall, waving for them to follow once more.

"We're meeting the band! Come on!"

Takeru and Hikari waved to the man named Kimura and took off down the brightly lit hall.

 _They were meeting Knife of Day?_

Daisuke's mind raced as they hurried through the labyrinth of hallways. He thought Takeru just meant to get a glimpse of the band close up. Like, they might be able to snap a picture real quick and run away… How were they meeting the band?! They didn't have backstage passes. No press passes. Takeru knew a bouncer? Was that all it took? That didn't sound right.

He looked to Ken for answers, but Ken had his thinking face on. When that happened, he didn't like to be interrupted. Daisuke hoped they were puzzling over the same problem.

His heart pounded in his chest, and it wasn't entirely leftover adrenaline from the concert. They were going to be able to talk to his favorite band. Actually talk to them. He prayed this wasn't the most elaborate prank ever constructed, because he was legitimately excited.

Takeru took a hard left into a more open space, and Daisuke froze for the second time in five minutes.

The band members were hanging out in a lounge area, cleaning and putting away instruments. They looked so normal. After only seeing interviews and stage performances, it was hard to remember they were regular people too. They were college age kids.

Daisuke would later admit that he was a little starstruck. Drummer, Oshiro Shuji, was half reclined on a couch, tapping on his thighs and laughing at something. Guitarist, Sasaki Akira, was standing in the middle of the room, drinking a soda and talking to _lead vocalist and bass guitarist, Ishida Yamato!_

Ishida was facing the other way, but Oshiro caught sight of them as they came around the corner. He smiled in greeting at them, but didn't say anything.

Daisuke thought he might pee his pants, he was so excited to meet these people.

And then, Daisuke thought he might pee his pants _because holy shit, Takeru was running straight towards Ishida's back_. Screw getting arrested. He was going to be shot.

At the last second, Sasaki saw the incoming teen and ducked out of the way. There was a millisecond where Ishida watched his bandmate in confusion, and then he came to an apparently horrifying conclusion.

"Shit, no!" Ishida spent the brief moment that Takeru was airborn thrusting an open water bottle into Sasaki's hands.

Takeru landed heavily on the young man, piggyback style. The musician staggered forward, swearing, but not trying to throw his assailant off.

"Jesus, Takeru, I had stuff in my hands! You're too big to jump on me like this!" He grouched, yet the scowl he wore was half-hearted. In fact, when he turned around, it looked more like he was suppressing laughter.

Takeru was clinging tightly to the idol, a very contented grin stretching his lips. He lay his head on the older boy's shoulder, blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"If I'm too big to get piggy backs, tell Kimura to stop calling me a shrimp."

Daisuke stared as they bickered. He barely even noticed the other band members coming over and hugging Hikari hello.

Ken's eyes were also trained on the blond pair, but he shook himself when the drummer started introductions.

"Yes, we're friends of Takeru's, I guess," He answered a question Daisuke hadn't been listening to. "He didn't tell us… Well, I mean, they're related, right?" Ken gestured to where Ishida was trying to drop Takeru on the couch, but Takeru was having none of it.

Daisuke could have slapped himself. Now that he was looking at the boys together, the resemblance was obvious. They were first cousins at the very least.

Sasaki sighed in exasperation, running a hand over his eyes.

"Takeru has the weirdest ways of making friends, I swear. I think he likes the shock factor," He leaned in conspiringly. "Don't ever let that kid tell you ghost stories. He's all sunshine and rainbows and then…" The guitarist shuddered. "You won't sleep for a week. He's a great storyteller, but he's merciless."

Oshiro gave his bandmate a light shove.

"Yeah, that's super helpful."

Ishida was suddenly approaching them, a resigned look plastered on his handsome face.

"Hello, you must be Daisuke and Ken, Takeru told me all about you on the phone. Thank you for coming to the concert, he says you guys are fans?" He nodded to each of them, ignoring his human backpack.

"Yeah…" Was all Daisuke managed.

Takeru sent them a shit-eating grin.

"This is Yamato. He's my brother!" He chirped.

Daisuke could not believe the week he was living.

Ken opened his mouth. He had a lot of questions. The first of which being, was Ishida a stage name to protect his family from being harassed by paparazzi? He did not get the chance, as a loud shout echoed down the hallway.

" _YAMATO_!"

"Oh my god," Yamato blanched.

Takeru perked up from his spot, peering at the doorway in anticipation. At the sound of pounding footsteps approaching quickly, he dropped off his brother's back and scrambled away.

"Incoming!" He cried, hiding behind Oshiro and cackling in apparent delight. Everyone present took a step away from the door.

A young man with incredibly bushy hair barreled into the room, zeroing in on the taller blond immediately.

"Ishida Yamato, you beautiful bastard!" He slung an arm over the musician's shoulders and pulled him into a headlock. "Tell your manager that eight weeks is way too long to be touring. I'm going crazy without you around to harass! I'm sure Takeru agrees. Hey Teeks! Yeah, he waved, he agrees!" The young man messed up Yamato's hair, and the two of them practically started wrestling where they stood.

"Get off me, you idiot, or I won't make you ramen anymore!"

Ken and Daisuke gawked shamelessly. Nothing was going anything like they had expected. Real life turned out to be so much weirder…

Hikari patted Ken on the back consolingly.

"And that," She shook her head as she watched the two almost knock a chair over. "Is _my_ brother."

Daisuke had no idea what he had gotten into, but as Yamato grabbed a drum stick off the table and tried to whack the other boy with it, Odaiba suddenly seemed like a lot of fun.

* * *

 **There can never be enough bro-wrestling for me. I grew up with an extremely physical family, all we ever did was run around and wrestle our parents, uncles, cousins... no one was ever safe. The number of times I catapulted myself at people must be astronomical. One time my dad heard me coming and ducked. I flew right over him and almost ate shit face first. To this day I have no idea how he swung me around so that I didn't break my face, but it happened.**

 **And if anyone thinks its odd that Ken and Daisuke don't immediately think they're brothers? Well, me and one of my cousins have been mistaken for twins on countless occasions, but I don't look anything like my sister.**


	13. GTA isn't Just a Videogame

**Heyyyyy everyone. This is your present for waiting a year for me to update this collection. A 9000 word angst fest. You're all very welcome. This is YamiKibou-Hope's fault.**

 **This is a continuation of chapter 3: Fever Dreams, but if you didn't read that or don't remember, that's okay. All you need to know is that Takeru got really sick and had horrid nightmares.**

* * *

Natsuko was so overcome with relief that Takeru was recovering well from his illness that it took her much too long to see that something was wrong. Something new. Of course, when she did start to get an inkling that something was off, she was not sure if something was wrong with Takeru, or with her.

* * *

The first sign came when she was putting groceries away in the kitchen a few days after Takeru had gone back to school. Natsuko was getting ready to start cooking when a question broke the comfortable quiet of the house.

"Hey Mom, what are you making for dinner?"

Natsuko paused in closing a cupboard door.

"What? Honey, didn't you just ask me that? We're having fried rice."

Takeru turned around on the couch and poked his head over the back, his face innocently confused.

"No, I didn't."

The mother's brow furrowed, tapping her fingers on the can of broth she was holding.

"Are you sure, Takeru? I swear I just told you a minute ago. You came out of your room and asked me."

"I don't think so, Mom. Are you okay?" His concern was palpable.

Maybe she was catching what he had or was overtired and not thinking straight. She had been working awfully hard to make up for taking two days off last week. And Natsuko had to admit she felt more drained than normal.

"I'm fine, just a little tired. Maybe I should go to bed early, huh?"

The reassuring smile her son sent her let her brush the incident off as déjà vu.

* * *

The second sign could have been caught if they'd had some sort a family calendar. But it was only the two of them in the house and Takeru was great at remembering his schedule, so Natsuko hadn't bothered to buy one since the boy was twelve.

She came home from work and was surprised to see dinner wrapped up for her on the counter and Takeru doing homework at the coffee table.

"Did your practice get cancelled? I didn't expect you home till eight," She said as she put her coat on the rack.

Takeru sent her a funny look.

"I have practice tomorrow, Mom, not tonight."

Huh. She thought his practices were Tuesday's and Thursday's. Had the coach changed the practice schedule because of the upcoming game? She let it go. It wouldn't be the first time.

* * *

The third one she laughed off. Probably because it wasn't her that was confused.

Takeru walked out of his room and stopped, looking suddenly puzzled.

"What's the matter?" She asked him, looking up from where she was folding laundry.

He didn't answer at first, just standing there and making a lot of faces.

"I…" Takeru chuckled, an odd, forced sound. "I forgot what I came out here for."

Natsuko laughed lightly, offering her son a sympathetic smile.

"Oh, honey, get used that. The older you get the more stuff like that happens. Give it a few minutes and it'll come back to you."

She went back to folding, missing the anxious look that crossed Takeru's face before he went back to his room.

* * *

It was the fourth incident she couldn't ignore. It was Saturday night, a full two weeks after Takeru's illness. She had caught up on her work and finally had a full day off to spend with her kid tomorrow. The woman was really looking forward to a relaxing Sunday with Takeru. Between him being sick and her having to spend last weekend making up for lost time, it had been over three weeks since the two of them had done anything together. The weather was getting warmer, maybe he'd like to go out to lunch by the park? Most of the restaurants had opened their outdoor seating by now.

Heartened by the idea, Natsuko headed to her son's bedroom to see if he was interested. She leaned against the doorframe and knocked softly to get his attention.

Takeru perked up from where he was sprawled on his bed in his pajamas, reading.

"Hi Mom, what's up?" The boy dropped his bookmark in place.

"I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out to lunch by the park tomorrow. I didn't have any particular place in mind, but we can always figure that out when we head over there."

Takeru frowned unexpectedly.

"Isn't it going to be chilly?"

"Mm, I haven't checked the weather today, but I don't think its supposed to be too bad. We can always sit inside if it is." Natsuko pushed off the doorframe and went to drop a kiss on his head before she went to bed herself.

She stopped when she caught sight of the book he was reading.

"Rereading that already? You must have really liked it, huh?"

Her son seemed confused by her comment. He picked up the novel and showed her the cover, his face puckering.

"This one? I'm not rereading, I haven't even finished it yet."

What? Natsuko could have sworn he finished the book last week. He'd loved the twist at the end and had rambled about it the whole time they ate dinner that night. What did he mean he hadn't read the whole thing?

"Sweetheart, you must have finished it. You told me all about it." She said skeptically.

Takeru's blue eyes darted around, avoiding her gaze. Why was he so uncomfortable? Was there something inappropriate in the book? He didn't look embarrassed though, just nervous.

"Takeru, what-"

"I just haven't finished it yet. I don't even know what's going to happen," Her son interrupted in a rush.

Natsuko didn't say anything right away. Takeru was such an easy-going kid, even at fifteen, and this was such a strange thing for him to get worked up over. The longer she waited, the more agitated he got, compulsively picking at his bedspread.

"Oh, okay honey, sorry." She dropped the subject before he got too stressed out.

Her heart felt heavy in her chest. Something weird was going on.

That night she waited until Takeru was asleep and then quietly borrowed the book from his nightstand, tiptoeing back to her own room and closing the door. In the light of her bedside lamp she skimmed the last few chapters of the fantasy novel. Every turn of the page sent her stomach dipping lower and lower.

She knew this.

She knew the plot twist at the end.

She had never read this book in her life. It had only come out last summer.

Takeru was wrong, he _had_ told her already.

Natsuko pulled the blankets up to her chin but couldn't bring herself to turn out the light. Her head was a swirling mess. The longer she laid there and thought about it, the more things started clicking into place, and Natsuko did not like the picture that was forming in her head.

Takeru asked her twice about dinner. He didn't remember. He definitely missed practice last week, she had checked the next day and never found a good time to confront him about it. He had been forgetting what he was doing more and more, shrugging it off or making her laugh about it. And now he'd forgotten the entire ending of a book.

Natsuko had been scared for her child when he was sick.

Now… Now Natsuko was frightened.

* * *

Natsuko stirred her tea, her fingers tense. She had barely slept, and all those extra hours awake had not helped her in the least to figure out a good way to confront her son.

Did he even know he was forgetting things? He was so defensive last night, like he thought he could be wrong but refused to admit it.

Her brain needed more time to absorb this… whatever this was. She resolved not to say anything to him, at least for a bit. Natsuko would spend the day with him and observe. Then they would talk.

Takeru dragged himself out of bed an hour later, acting like the same groggy child she watched grow up. Breakfast felt normal, but the longer he was awake, the more she started to get hints of anxiety from him. He checked the time often, his smiles started to feel shaky, and by the time lunch neared he was fidgeting almost constantly. Natsuko wasn't confident it was a good idea to go out to lunch anymore. The urge to ask him what was going on welled up tight in her chest and the mother wasn't sure she would be able to hold it in much longer.

She didn't know if she should be relieved or upset when she asked if he'd rather stay in for lunch and he agreed with no hesitation.

They ate their dumplings in deafening silence. Natsuko didn't even taste the food. A war waged in her mind, one side demanding to know what was wrong this instant, and the other wanting to give Takeru the opportunity to come to her on his own. Giving someone the third degree was a surefire way to make them clam up or get defensive. That was the last thing Takeru needed right now.

Except Natsuko was never the most patient woman.

She tried her hardest, but in the end, she cracked before she had even cleared her plate.

"Takeru, I-"

"Mom?"

They spoke at the same time, both looking up at the other in surprise. Takeru's face was filled with unease, and Natsuko swallowed tightly, gesturing for him to go first.

"Um, Mom? Did you… Did you move my book?"

Well, that was not what Natsuko was hoping he'd say, but her son looked so nervous that she answered him seriously.

"I did, honey. I just wanted to take a peek at it. I forgot to put it back. I can go grab it if you'd like?"

Relief swept through his whole body and he slumped back in his chair, rubbing his hands over his face.

"No, its fine. I finished it already, I just wanted to know where it went," He mumbled.

Natsuko stilled. There it was. He'd already read it. She had never expected him to say it. That didn't make any sense, just last night he'd said he hadn't. If he was forgetting things, why would he remember now?

"So, you did finish it?" Her question didn't come out much like a question.

Now it was Takeru's turn to freeze, a horrified, guilty expression taking over his face. Like someone who'd just realized they confessed to their own crime.

Neither of them said anything.

"Takeru?" Natsuko finally ventured, her voice gentle as not to startle him.

Her son had to put down his chopsticks when his hands started shaking. He kept staring at the table like it would save him, his eyes wide and watery. Natsuko's heart thundered in her ears. With the exception of the half lucid, fever induced tears he'd shed when he was sick, he hadn't cried in quite some time. The thought that he was just across the table from her, scared and trying to hold himself together, was beyond alarming.

"Takeru, what is it?" She said as calmly as she could. Which was impressive seeing as she was screaming on the inside.

Takeru blinked, the first tears dripping down his cheeks. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, wringing his fingers together.

"I…Mom?" His voice wobbled and Natsuko had to stop herself from scooping her baby up. He was fifteen. It was good that he was talking to her at all.

"Yeah? I'm right here, honey."

"I…" He choked on an unsteady breath. "I think there's something wrong with me."

* * *

The next few days were a hectic blur of doctor's appointments. Everyone was rushing them from office to office, pushing their schedules around to fit Takeru in, because apparently, a teenager with sudden memory loss was serious.

Except he had no other symptoms.

Nothing abnormal showed on the CT scan. Or the MRI.

No recent head trauma.

No history of epilepsy.

Every blood test came back negative.

The questions started getting stranger.

No, Takeru had no history of migraines.

No, he had not recently been exposed to sudden extreme temperatures.

No, he wasn't sexually active that she knew of, oh my gosh he was fifteen. What did that have to do with anything?

And finally…

Yes. Yes, Takeru had gone through a significantly stressful situation recently. He was recovering from a nasty bout of the flu, but…

No, His fever had not gotten high enough to do brain damage. It had not been anywhere near 107.6. He'd topped out around 103. High, but not that unusual.

* * *

When Natsuko pulled the car into the parking lot at the hospital on the fifth day of testing, Takeru turned to her, suddenly baffled.

"Why are we at the hospital? Did someone get hurt?" Takeru asked worriedly.

Natsuko pushed down her panic. Takeru had not had a memory skip outside of the house that she knew of. How was he supposed to answer the specialist's questions when he couldn't even remember why they were there?

"You have an appointment, sweetie. Nothing to worry about. Come on, we don't want to be late."

Takeru followed her inside to the receptionist's desk without fuss, but the confused expression never left his face. He looked like he was wracking his brain for an answer that just would not come.

"Excuse me, we have a nine o'clock with Doctor Ito. Last name is Takaishi," Natsuko kept an eye on her son while the woman behind the desk nodded and pulled up their file.

"Hold on one moment, ma'am. I'll notify him that you've arrived."

Takeru stared at her. Then looked around at the building in alarm.

"Why are we at the hospital?"

The question was identical to the one he asked only a minute before. It was so exact when this happened that he sounded like a broken record. It was unnerving.

"You… have an appointment, sweetheart."

"I do?" He was edging towards scared.

Natsuko had no idea how to comfort him.

The receptionist was watching, calm eyes taking in the situation with a grace Natsuko was lacking.

"I'm sorry," The mother addressed the woman, trying not to sound as frazzled as she felt. "He's very confused right now."

"Mom, why am I here?" Takeru pulled his hands up into the sleeves of his sweatshirt, something she hadn't seen him do in years. Her heart hurt.

The receptionist typed in earnest, lowering her voice.

"Is he currently experiencing an episode?"

An…episode?

"I… yes?" She kept her voice quiet as well.

"How long ago did it start?"

Natsuko tried to send Takeru a reassuring smile, but he was too busy giving them a suspicious look to notice.

"Just before we arrived. A couple minutes ago, I'd guess." She managed to subtly wipe her increasingly sweaty hands on her jacket.

Takeru was sent back to the specialist immediately. Without her. He went with the nurse unquestioningly, but before the door could shut fully, Natsuko saw him send a last minute look her way, panic in his blue eyes.

Natsuko paced in the waiting room, debating calling Hiroaki. She hadn't told anyone else what was going on, besides telling her boss that Takeru wasn't well again and she needed to take more vacation time. She didn't want to call her ex without knowing exactly what they were dealing with. She wanted a name for this. Once they knew what was going on they could start treating it, but until then she was stuck being terrified of all the possibilities.

She walked the waiting room for over an hour. No one interrupted her. The other occupants of the waiting room looked as strung out as she did, and it did nothing to make her feel better.

Her fears were not assuaged when the door opened and Takeru walked in with Doctor Ito behind him. Natsuko's stomach dropped. Takeru was wide-eyed and obviously still disoriented. He beelined to her side immediately, not saying a word.

She did not get to check on him before the doctor approached them. He was much too chipper, exclaiming what good luck it was that they were able to see Takeru during an episode. That the information they were able to gather would be immensely helpful and they could potentially have results by the end of the following day. Natsuko's heart jumped around erratically.

They might have a diagnosis?

Takeru waited until Doctor Ito said his goodbyes and left the waiting room to curl into his mother. Natsuko squeezed him, hoping to comfort him. He didn't hug her back, his arms pinned to his front like he was too scared to open up even that much.

"I don't understand what's going on," He whispered into her shoulder.

"Its okay, baby. I've got you." Natsuko held him closer, wishing he was small enough to carry out to the car. He was still small for fifteen, but he was shooting up every day and was already to her nose. It wouldn't be long before he passed her.

Natsuko made sure she got Takeru home and snuggled up on the couch with a snack before she closed herself in her room for a proper meltdown.

* * *

It was late in the afternoon the next day that the hospital called and asked them to come in at their earliest convenience. They were there in an hour.

Natsuko bounced her leg in anticipation. She stopped herself from biting her nails in front of Takeru, but the urge was so strong she had to keep her hands firmly tucked under her arms. Her son sat beside her, eyes glazed over and staring his knees. He stopped pretending to read ten minutes ago. The constant questions and tests were overwhelming her, a grown woman, so she could only imagine the toll they were taking on Takeru.

How on earth did people handle this? She knew that they were actually exceedingly lucky. It wasn't uncommon for a diagnosis to take months. A week was unbearable as it was. Any longer and she thought she might actually spontaneously combust.

"Mrs. Takaishi?" A low voice startled her from her stressful thoughts. Beside her, Takeru jerked his head up as well.

"Yes?"

There were two men in front of her. One, a tall, older gentleman with a clipboard, and the second, a much younger man in scrubs. The badge clipped to his cartoon covered lanyard read that he was an intern.

"Wonderful to meet you. My name is Shinya Hinohara. I work very closely with Doctor Ito and we have been looking over your son's case. I was wondering if you would join me in my office? Ikeda here will stay here and keep Takeru company."

Natsuko liked him better than the others already. He had a soft, familiar lilt to his voice that set her at ease. It also helped that he was probably going to actually give her answers. The fact that he also wasn't going to leave Takeru alone in the waiting room certainly didn't hurt either.

"You'll be okay, honey?" She asked her son as she stood.

Takeru was tense, but besides a brief bit of confusion before lunch, he had been with it all day.

"I'll be fine, Mom."

She nodded in thanks to the intern, Ikeda, as he filled her now empty seat. Natsuko followed the doctor around the corner, overhearing the young man trying to start a conversation with Takeru about basketball.

Doctor Hinohara led her back through a maze of examination rooms and offices, finally stopping by a nice office on the left and gesturing for her to enter first.

She settled herself in one of the comfortable chairs, twining her fingers in the strap of her purse.

"Thank you for being so flexible with your schedule, Mrs. Takaishi. Its been instrumental in getting enough information for a quick diagnosis," The doctor took a seat across from her and pulled out a thick pamphlet from a drawer. He didn't hand it to her yet.

"So, you think you know what's wrong?" Natsuko found she was a little breathless.

"We do, and forgive us for not giving you any information sooner. We had a suspicion of what was happening, but we needed to be sure it could not be any of the other possibilities. You see, there are many ways amnesia can present itself, and without understanding which manner of memory loss we were dealing with, we could not accurately advise any treatment."

Natsuko was confused.

"Amnesia? I thought that had been dismissed after I said Takeru hadn't had a recent head injury?"

The older man smiled like he was expecting such a question.

"Amnesia is a tricky thing. The amnesia that you see on television and in movies is incredibly inaccurate. It most closely resembles the effects of Retrograde Amnesia, though the loss of long-term memories is usually caused by brain tumors. It is possible to have a traumatic brain injury with the result of this type of amnesia, but it is far less common than shows would have you believe. And those memories never conveniently return with another blow to the head.

A more common form of memory loss is called Anterograde Amnesia, in which the patient cannot form new memories. Their recollection may be as short as ten to thirty seconds. It is short term memory loss, and once it presents itself, it is almost always permanent."

Natsuko's blood turned to ice. Permanent?

"Luckily, we were able to dismiss that option right away. This is actually the form of amnesia that occurs after a severe blow to the head and significant damage is done to the Hippocampus."

Natsuko tried to keep the irritation off her face. If Takeru didn't have it, why mention it?

"What your son seems to be experiencing is this," Doctor Hinohara handed her the pamphlet.

She took in the stock photo of an older woman scratching her head in confusion. Above it read the letters GTA.

GTA… wasn't that a new videogame? One of her coworkers had been complaining about it not too long ago. It was super violent or something. Natsuko assumed her son's issues had nothing to do with that though.

"Global Transient Amnesia," He stated. "The least understood of all the forms of amnesia, but also least serious. It presents itself in sudden, unpredictable memory loss episodes. The memory loss may be just the last few minutes or months back. In rare episodes, a person could forget the events of up to a year ago. What makes GTA different is that those memories slowly return over the course of the episode. They do not remain lost. An episode may last anywhere from two to ten hours, though it is not impossible for an episode to last longer.

Because the episodes are unpredictable, GTA is often accompanied by stress, general agitation, and mood swings. The person is aware that at any time they may forget where they are or what they were doing, but they have no control over the situation. It can be frightening and frustrating.

It sounds alarming, but I assure you that Takeru is in no danger. GTA is physically harmless. There is no brain damage and there has never been a case that has remained permanent. These episodes will eventually decline and end on their own."

"Why is this happening to him?" She wondered aloud.

"The direct causes of GTA are still not well understood. There are links to blood pressure issues and people with a history of migraines, but ultimately the most common precursor to its onset has been strong emotional triggers. You said that he had very recently had the flu?" Hinohara let his question trail off.

"He… Takeru had terrible nightmares the whole time. He was so feverish he couldn't tell that they weren't real. Are you saying my son has short term memory loss because he got scared?"

That just didn't sound like it could be a real thing.

"As strange as it is, yes. The human brain is a powerful machine."

Natsuko wanted to lie down. She needed to process.

"Is there any treatment? Anything I can do?" She flipped through the little booklet without reading a word.

Doctor Hinohara sighed and gave her an apologetic smile.

"Unfortunately, there is no cure. Like I said, after some time the episodes will simply end on their own. Until then, there are plenty of safety measures and helpful things that you can do at home that will ease the stress of your situation…"

* * *

Natsuko's world continued to be a mess of worry, but life went on.

They'd been advised to let friends and family know ASAP, so that Takeru could do his best to return to normal life. If he had an episode the people around him would be informed enough to keep him safe and grounded.

Hiroaki and Yamato had not taken it well. Yamato had immediately wanted to come home from college to see him, but Takeru had reasoned that it was almost finals and Yamato could wait a week or so to see him. Natsuko got the feeling that Takeru actually really wanted his brother, but hell if he was going to let Yamato miss all his exams. Yamato compromised by vowing to call every night until them.

The high school had to be informed, and that was the strangest conversation with the principle she'd ever had. They were pretty accommodating, allowing Takeru to retake tests once each, but in general they seemed skeptical that he would be getting much out of his classes. Natsuko absolutely detested that he was going back to school, but Hinohara had been firm when he said that Takeru was perfectly healthy and bed rest would do nothing for him. That teenagers needed fresh air and being cooped up would most likely just make him more irritable.

Patamon didn't understand human brains very well. The poor digimon had panicked, frantically asking if Takeru remembered him. He was now spending a lot more time in the apartment, keeping an eye on Takeru when Natsuko couldn't. She appreciated his presence, and Takeru seemed to flip back and forth between loving the constant company and feeling annoyed that he was being babysat.

Their apartment had completely been taken over by sticky notes and alarms. On his doctor's recommendation, Takeru wrote things down constantly. Reminders of what day it was, of when he had basketball, of when homework assignments were due, of when to attend Daisuke's games, and Hikari's photography show. He set himself innumerable alarms. If Natsuko weren't so happy that they helped, she would be maddened by the frequent chirping and beeping from his phone and watch.

The watch was important. As soon as Takeru got the feeling that things were slipping away from him, he started the timer. It would run until he could recall everything again, and they would clock the episode in a little notebook on the counter. It didn't really do anything, but it let them track if the episodes were getting better or worse. Hinohara told them to let him know if an episode lasted longer than twenty-four hours. Which thankfully, Takeru hadn't even gotten close to.

It also let Natsuko know if he was in the middle of an episode when she came home.

Takeru seemed to be adjusting okay.

His anxiety was always a factor in how his day went. When Natsuko was home on the weekends she could watch an entire episode progress. It would be fascinating if it weren't so upsetting.

Takeru would often be doing homework when they started, he was always having to redo schoolwork these days. It would be subtle at first. Glancing around like he'd heard something creepy, and then a moment of realization. He'd frantically start the timer on his watch and then jump back to his homework to try and get another question finished before it all slipped away. It wouldn't be long before he was looking at the paper like it was gibberish. Sometimes he would see the date in the corner and freak out. Sometimes he would see it and confidently erase it, rewriting a different one, sometimes weeks prior. Sometimes he would walk out of a room and jump when he saw her, asking when the heck she got home. Sometimes he would just stand in the middle of a room and look terrified. When that happened she would gently take him aside and have him help her with some methodical task, laundry or cleaning or making dinner. While they did their chore, she'd explain what was happening to him, showing him the notebook and the ongoing timer on his watch.

Sometimes he hugged her and said thanks.

Sometimes he just wanted to be left alone.

* * *

Natsuko groaned as she took her shoes off her poor aching feet. Takeru had been sent home from school yesterday when an episode went over four hours. The school declared there being no point in him staying in the nurse's office any longer and had contacted her to pick him up. They didn't trust him to walk home on his own.

She left work two hours early and had to stay two hours late today to make up for it. She'd called the house number and Takeru's cell, but he didn't call her back.

It made her nervous.

She put her purse on the counter and looked around. There was no dinner wrapped for her. That was okay. Takeru had a lot on his plate. He was probably in the middle of an episode. She took a deep breath.

"Takeru? Honey, are you home?" She tried to sound casual.

She came around the island when there was no answer.

His door was closed, and Patamon sat outside it, looking sadly up at her.

"He told me to go away. He's really upset."

Natsuko hesitated. Through all of this, Takeru had rarely gotten angry. Scared, yes. Frustrated, yes. She had never seen him fight with his partner. Though Yamato claimed it had happened a few times when they were younger.

"You go pick something out for dinner, Pata," She crouched and rubbed the little digimon's back. "I'll deal with the cranky kid, okay? Thanks for watching him."

Patamon perked up at the praise and fluttered towards the kitchen.

The mother got to her feet and braced herself for whatever was beyond her child's door.

"Takeru, I'm coming in," She knocked on the wood as she opened it.

She stared in disbelief at the sight in front of her.

The bedroom was a disaster. Nothing was broken, but it looked like it had been ransacked. Books were open all over the desk and the floor. Takeru's backpack lay sagging against the bedframe, its contents spilled all across the bedspread. Every binder was open. Every folder had been emptied.

Takeru sat cross-legged in the middle on it on the floor, fingers knotted in his hair, and staring down at a week-old test he'd taken.

"Honey…?"

Her son jerked his head up at her voice. His face was blotchy, and his eyes were wide. He looked disturbed.

"What is all this?" His voice was slow, a forced even tone.

"What do you mean, Takeru? Its school work. Are you okay?" She wasn't close enough to see the timer.

"No!"

His shout startled her. He never yelled.

"No, nothing is okay! What the Hell is all this?" He jumped to his feet, gesturing around him like someone else had made the mess. Maybe he didn't remember doing it? "What's going on? I don't- I'm good at school! What the heck is with all these failed tests, Mom?"

Natsuko took a small step into the room, unsure what to do with her child.

"I didn't take these!" He cried. "I didn't take any of these! Why are they all so bad? Its not- Why are you just staring at me?"

He was so angry. She hadn't seen him so worked up since he was little. Not since the divorce.

"These are _wrong_!" He backed away from the tests on the bed like they were going to bite him. "Everything is wrong and I don't know why. I feel like its some sick joke or a dream or something but Patamon said I have amnesia and- and that… That can't be right! I'm not hurt! I want to wake up!"

Natsuko flinched at his volume.

Takeru turned to her, looking away from the mess of papers.

"Why is it April?! We just- We just had Christmas! Its supposed to be cold out! It- it snowed yesterday! Mom, I don't… I can't- I don't understand and I hate it! Nothing makes any sense!"

Natsuko did nothing as the anger turned to fear and Takeru's eyes suddenly welled with tears.

"I didn't take those tests, but-but that's my handwriting! And there's retakes in there. So many of them! Weeks! I don't want this! I don't know what's happening! Tell me what's going on!"

His breaths were speeding up. He was panicking.

"Fix this!"

Tears spilled down Natsuko's face.

"I can't, baby. I'm so sorry. I can't."

Takeru burst into hysterical crying and Natsuko finally got her frozen muscles to move. She crossed to him in an instant and pulled him into her arms.

"I'm so sorry."

* * *

Takeru's mood only went downhill from there. He went out with his friends less and less. His calls with Yamato were short and bland. The new school year had just started, and his grades were already in the toilet. He was always grouchy, snapping at people for the smallest comments. At Patamon. At her.

It was wearing her down.

Doctor Hinohara said it was to be expected. That sometimes GTA was harder for family members than it was for the patient. He recommended counseling, but when she mentioned it, Takeru glared at her and closed himself in his room.

It had been over two months.

Natsuko could only pretend not to hear him crying at night for so long before she snapped.

* * *

There was an intervention of sorts. It hadn't even been her idea. Hikari, Miyako, and Daisuke showed up one Friday night with movies and two large bags from the Inou's store. Natsuko spent the next five hours closed in her room with candles and a book, calming music playing in her headphones. It wasn't quite as good as a spa day, but she would take what she could get.

When she ventured to the bathroom the first time, the whole apartment smelled like popcorn and the kids were all smashed together on the couch watching Finding Nemo. She snuck past them, peeking at her son as she went. His eyes were wide, watching Dory with something like respect in his unwavering gaze.

The second time she came out was to get a glass of water. The woman was worried when she opened her door and was accosted by the sounds of crying, but it was nothing like the angry crying she had been hearing lately.

Daisuke had moved over to the armchair, studiously ignoring all the emotions over on the couch. Takeru was curled up with Hikari and a blanket, both of them crying at the scene on the TV. Miyako spotted her creeping towards the kitchen and slipped off the couch, quietly joining her in getting a drink.

"What on earth are you watching now?" Natsuko asked in a hushed whisper. The music in the movie sounded lighthearted, but the character on screen was singing and bawling at the same time.

"It's an American film. Its actually pretty silly to be honest, but there's a girl in the movie with Anterograde Amnesia. I looked for some films that might make Takeru feel a little less alone, and this one popped up as funny, but also apparently decently accurate. There was another one that is supposed to be a really accurate depiction of short-term memory loss, but I read its kind of upsetting and intense. I figured we would steer clear of the traumatic stuff, you know?"

Natsuko found herself smiling.

"Than you so much for coming over tonight. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. Takeru's just been having such a hard time lately and I don't know what to do for him anymore. Its so unsettling to see him like this for so long. He's always been such a happy child…"

Miyako patted her back comfortingly.

"You're doing great. Everybody needs a break once in a while. Takeru still thinks the world of you, I promise. I think half the reason he's been so cranky lately is that he knows how much this is scaring you and he can't do anything about it."

"He doesn't need to do anything. He just needs to relax and let his mind heal," Natsuko sighed, not surprised by the information.

"He'll get there," Miyako said gently. "Eventually this will blow over."

Takeru was in better spirits for a week before he had another major meltdown and ended up yelling at nobody in particular. Just yelling.

Natsuko shipped him off to spend a few days with Hiroaki and Yamato, who had come home from college for a few days, opting to do his classwork online.

Hiroaki reported to her, somewhat hysterically, that Yamato had been so overbearing that Takeru had blown up. Apparently, his response to one of Yamato's suggestions was to 'shove it up his ass', and the boys proceeded to beat the tar out of each other. Hiroaki left them to it because no one was getting seriously injured and it was good for both of them to let off some steam.

Takeru was returned to her Sunday night looking no worse for wear and smiling again.

She wished it would last.

* * *

Natsuko rubbed her forehead. She had been getting tension headaches off and on for over a week now. One of her coworkers half-heartedly joked that they were sympathy pains for her son, but Natsuko hadn't been in the mood to find that funny.

Takeru had been quiet the past few days. Not quite as irritable as he'd been the past couple weeks, but withdrawn, almost resigned. He answered a lot of her questions with shrugs or one-word answers.

She sighed slowly, pushing as much air out of her lungs as possible. One day at a time. One hour at a time. It was Sunday. Takeru didn't have school. She wasn't going to work. She could potentially relax. Maybe take Takeru out of the house and get some fresh air. The weather was perfect. It was almost June. He'd have summer break soon, and he could really take a _break_.

Out of habit, Natsuko leaned over the counter and opened the little notebook they'd logged all his episodes in. Flipped through March. Through April. May. God, the beginning of the month had been atrocious. Takeru had been having multiple episodes a day for up to four days in a row. No wonder he'd been in such a bad mood.

She slowed when she reached this week. One on Monday that lasted three and a half hours. One on Wednesday that had been just about five. And that… that was it?

She double checked the dates.

Nothing Thursday.

Nothing Friday.

Nothing yesterday.

"Hey, sweetheart?" Natsuko called, not moving from her place in the kitchen.

Takeru's head poked up over the back of the couch. She secretly hoped he never shook the habit. It was cute no matter how old he got or how annoyed he looked, which right now ranked maybe a six out of ten.

"What?"

"Have you been writing down all your episodes?"

Takeru frowned at her.

"Of course, I have."

She hated to push him these days, but she had to.

"All of them? You're sure?"

Takeru flopped back down so that she couldn't see him.

"Uh, _yeah_. I'm sure," He ground out, a little bit of attitude slipping into his tone.

She pursed her lips at that but chose to ignore it. There were more important things right now. If he was telling the truth…?

"So, you haven't had anything happen since Wednesday?"

Silence range through the apartment following the question.

Then Takeru moved, very slowly peeking up again.

"Wednesday?"

"Yes. There isn't anything written down here since then," Natsuko studied her son's face, he looked almost suspicious.

"And its… Its Sunday, today?"

"Yes. You aren't having one right now, are you?"

She knew immediately that he wasn't when he cautiously looked down at his watch instead of protesting vehemently or asking what she was talking about.

"Uh, no. I'm not," He was doing everything slowly, like if he moved to fast the rug would get pulled out from under him.

"Okay. No episodes in three days. That's great, Takeru," She didn't want either of them to get their hopes up and then crushed if he had another bout of memory loss that night, or tomorrow. Three days was great, but it wasn't that long.

They both went back to their tasks quietly. Neither one of them wanted to say any of the thoughts rushing through their heads.

The last thing they wanted to do was jinx it.

* * *

Takeru happily listened to Daisuke's endless chatter on the train. He had a whole week of completed homework passed back to him today, as well as the results from two quizzes. Solid B's on both of them. The sun was warm on his back and strong enough for him to be looking forward to changing into a t-shirt once they got to his friend's house.

Eight days. Eight whole days without an episode. Today didn't count until he went to bed, but it was past four and nothing yet. Then it would be nine.

It was amazing what it did for his sanity.

It made him want to have fun again. His mother was quietly thrilled. They hadn't said a word about it in the house. There were looks exchanged and smothered smiles, but it felt almost taboo to say anything about the streak in fear of ruining it.

Takeru was happy to see her enjoy herself again. She'd run herself ragged taking care of him which, as he recalled, was no picnic. He'd make it up to her somehow.

"So, what do you want to do, man? We'll have about an hour before Ken comes over, so it's your pick."

Takeru's stomach growled. Luckily it was too loud on the train for anyone to hear.

"Should we pick up some food before we head to your place? Its so nice out."

Daisuke grinned. The boy loved to cook.

"Sure thing! What do you want to make? Oh! Should we surprise Ken with one of his favorites? I swear I thought I heard him say he was craving some Gyudon last weekend. That's easy to make, even you probably couldn't screw it up. Want that?"

Takeru scowled playfully at the rude comment.

"Wow, thanks. I don't actually completely suck at cooking. I know it doesn't exactly run in my family, but if Nii-san can learn to cook in spite of Mom and Dad, I think I can follow your directions," He broke into a smile again. "Gyudon sounds like heaven to be honest."

They got off a stop early to run to the nearest grocery, having fun picking out the ingredients and making fun of each other as they went.

Takeru had missed this. Just being out and about in the good weather. He rooted through the onions, searching for a good one, pearly and firm.

"Got one yet?"

Takeru startled, dropping the onion he'd picked up and turning abruptly. Daisuke hadn't been there a second ago, had he? His heart thumped uncomfortably fast. His hands felt clammy, inching towards his watch.

"Woah, sorry? I didn't mean to scare you. I just walked over," Daisuke was genuine, a careful look on his face.

Takeru waited for the anxious tingle. For the strange feeling of wrongness. Of wondering why he was with Daisuke or why they were in a grocery store. He didn't want this. He was on day eight. Please.

It didn't come. His thumb hovered over the timer button. Daisuke didn't move.

Takeru blinked.

"I'm okay?" It came out hushed. He swallowed, letting himself relax. Nothing was happening. Daisuke just caught him off guard. "I'm okay. Just freaked me out for a sec."

Daisuke eyed him, nodding minutely.

"Did you get an onion, then?"

Takeru picked up what he was pretty sure was the one he'd dropped.

"Yup. Here you go," He dropped it in the basket and they headed over to the check-out lines.

He was okay. Nothing happened.

The boys made their way back to Daisuke's place in no particular hurry. Gyudon didn't take long to make after all. They joked around, shoving each other as they climbed the stairs to the apartment. It felt lazy to take the elevator when he was only on the third floor.

Daisuke's mom was home already and greeted Takeru like she hadn't seen him in years. It had been months, Takeru figured, but they didn't spend a lot of time at Daisuke's place because of Jun for the most part. Now that she was seventeen and applying for colleges she had chilled out a bit. Enough for Daisuke to be okay with Jun and 'the little brother of famous rock star, Yamato Ishida' in the same room.

Ken arrived as they were finishing up making the Gyudon, which Takeru did not mess up at all, thank you very much. It turned out delicious. The leftovers were packaged up for when Daisuke's dad came home from work and they boys headed into Daisuke's bedroom to chill and play videogames.

At the end of the first game, Takeru stretched his arms out and looked at the window. It was almost dark. That was a little surprising, he didn't think they'd been playing all that long.

"Hey Daisuke, does your mom want help with dinner?" He asked politely.

Daisuke and Ken exchanged a brief, nervous glance.

"We already ate, Takeru. You don't remember?" Ken's voice was calm. Too calm.

It gave him goosebumps. He also knew Ken was right, because thinking about it, he wasn't hungry at all.

That wasn't right.

Oh shit.

Takeru pushed the timer button, staring at his friends with wide, desperate eyes. He hadn't wanted this. Eight days. Eight days, right? That was still good. He didn't, wait, eight what? Why was that important?

Something was wrong. Something bad. Takeru could feel his pulse quicken. His breathing sped up. He wasn't… He wasn't home?

"I don't-Daisuke, I don't remember coming over," He had to say that before something bad happened.

"That's okay, buddy. That doesn't matter. You're here with us and you're perfectly okay, alright?" Daisuke sounded completely at ease. Practiced almost. It unnerved him even more.

He shook his head. Anxiety twisted in his chest. It was like he was supposed to remember something. Something important, and he couldn't remember, he was forgetting, and that was bad. Forgetting was bad, what was he supposed to remember?

Takeru looked down. His watch timer was running. That was weird, he never used that thing. He reached down to click it off and a hand grabbed his wrist.

He jerked up, alarmed to see Ken holding onto him. When had he gotten there? Where was he? He wasn't home?

"Don't touch that, Takeru. You need it to run, okay?" Ken sounded nervous.

Why did he need his watch to run?

"Why am I here?" Was what tumbled out of his mouth instead.

Ken let go of him, backing off a little.

"We're just having a guy's night. Playing some videogames. You lost the first round, you know. Why do we even bother playing with Ken anyway? We always lose," Daisuke chuckled.

Takeru blinked.

Daisuke was holding onto his hand, writing on it with sharpie.

"What the heck are you doing?" He yanked his hand away. When had Daisuke come over?

Takeru whipped his head around in confusion. This was not his bedroom. When the actual hell had he gone to Daisuke's?

"I was helping you out, Takeru. You asked me to do this. I'm not lying. Go ahead, read it."

What did he mean, he asked him to write on him?

Takeru looked down at his hand, his heart in his throat. A message was scrawled across his palm.

 _You have amnesia. Today is June 2_ _nd_ _. Relax_

That, that couldn't be right. It couldn't be June. He'd just been, no, that was too early… It was just Valentine's Day, wasn't it? Just a week or so ago? It had to be right, but it sounded wrong. Everything felt wrong. He felt so hot and sweaty, his chest hurt. He kind of felt like he was going to cry.

"You're okay. Takeru, I promise you're alright. You're just here with me and Daisuke. We're playing some videogames. Do you want to try again?" Ken smiled reassuringly at him and Takeru felt himself calm infinitesimally.

He was with his friends. Playing games. If they claimed nothing was wrong… There was no real reason for them to lie to him.

"I have amnesia?" He asked shakily.

"Yeah," Ken answered with a nod. "You've had it for a while. It comes and goes, but you can still have fun. Just don't touch your watch."

His watch? He didn't usually wear one.

He looked down and Ken was right, a watch sat on his wrist, the timer running as they spoke. It crept past eleven minutes.

"I don't understand. Did I get hurt?"

"Nah, you got yourself all freaked out when you were sick and apparently this can happen. You're the youngest case the doctors around here have ever seen, so good job," Daisuke shot him a thumbs up.

Takeru's stomach squirmed. This was a lot to take in. He had _amnesia_? And his mom let him out of her sight? It was almost funny that that was the part that was hardest to believe.

"You can go home if you really want to," Ken offered. "Your mom already knows you're having an episode and said she can come pick you up if you'd rather ride it out at your own house. We totally understand if you do."

Takeru took a few breaths. Shit, this was a lot.

"I- I mean, its not hurting me, is it?" He was anxious and his hand itched where the ink was, but otherwise he felt okay. Not hurt. Not sick.

"No, you're fine. It's a temporary condition, not like, a disease."

"Yeah, and if you want to stay, man, we don't mind having to remind you where you are and stuff. We've done it before," Daisuke said proudly, clapping him on the shoulder.

Takeru bit his lip.

"I guess I'd rather stay here then? I bet my mom needs some time off if she's been dealing with this for a while."

Both teens in front of his broke into wide smiles.

"Awesome! What game do you want to play?" Daisuke cried.

* * *

Eight days was taken over by twelve. And then he dipped back to six, and four. Then Takeru went a full two weeks without a single episode. Instead of celebrating, his brain punished him with two in one day, ruining an afternoon with his dad. But the next one didn't come until nearly July.

There wasn't a next one after that.

Takeru peeled the last of the sticky notes off his desk, tossing them into the trash with a vindicated grin. He pinned his last test on the corkboard above it, proudly displaying his A-.

A soft knock on the doorframe told him it was almost time for dinner.

"I'll be out in a sec, Mom!" He called over his shoulder, eyes widening when he saw his mother walking into the room. "Oops, sorry for yelling at you."

His mom shrugged.

"I had a question for you. Your birthday is coming up quick and I have no idea what you want. I can't believe my youngest son is going to be sixteen. That's not okay. Look at this! We're just about the same height!" She stood next to him and put a hand to the top of his head. "This should be illegal. Yamato bypassed me when he was like, fourteen, but you're my little one! You're supposed to be littler!"

Takeru laughed, ducking away when she messed up his hair.

"Uh, sorry, I guess?" He wasn't sorry at all. "But if you want to get me a new notebook, that would be great."

Natsuko huffed at him, her tone turning sly when she replied.

"Are you going to write all about the last six months? I know most of your writing comes from stuff that happens in real life."

Takeru flushed.

"Uh. The opposite actually," His current notebook was filled to the brim with horror. He always journaled, and that habit had stayed throughout his memory loss periods. Writing had become a blur of negative emotions and looking back at such destructive thoughts made him feel sick. "I think I'm going to burn the one I have now."

His mother was a little taken aback but didn't fight him on it.

"Alright. Well, dinner will be ready in five."

Takeru nodded and watched her leave. He peeked over to where his notebook sat innocently on his chair. Maybe burning it was a little extreme? Was it really that bad?

He slid over and picked it up like it was a bomb. Careful fingers pushed some pages over, his eyes scanning the-

Wow. Yeah. This things was getting burned.

* * *

 **GTA sounds awful. Also, writing 7000 words in a day makes me feel like I've shriveled up. Maybe I should tone it down a notch. I can't believe I got Grand Theft Auto, Finding Nemo, 50 First Dates, and Momento references in a Digimon fic.**

 **This may be your Christmas/Hannuka/Kwanza present. I'm moving in two weeks and don't know if I can get anything out before then. Happy holidays!**


	14. Hugs Are Like Vitamins

**Buckle up kiddos, this is a sad thing.**

* * *

Hikari liked being four years old.

She liked that she could do her big girl shoes up all by herself.

She liked when Miko tickled her cheeks with her whiskers.

She liked it when Mommy told her to sit real still on the bathroom counter, a big towel clipped around her neck and Mommy's scissors snipping at her damp hair. The lady at the store said short hair was for boys, but Hikari didn't want a bunch of hair in her face all the time. And Onii-chan had long hair and was still a boy, so the poor lady must have been awfully mixed up.

Hikari really liked when Daddy sometimes snuck her a bit of his dessert when Mommy and Onii-chan weren't looking. It made her feel sneaky and special and she practiced winking back at Daddy but hadn't figured that out yet.

What Hikari did not like was the other kids at preschool leaning far away when she sneezed.

She didn't like feeling left out when she missed a few days of school and came back to a room decorated with art projects she didn't get to help with.

She didn't like the sad and quiet she felt in her chest when nobody wanted to be her partner because she had "germs". Hikari always washed her hands and coughed into her elbow and used a tissue.

She didn't like that the kids that always traded snacks behind the teacher's back would never trade with her. Even when they had just said they liked the snack she had. They'd trade with anybody else. But not Hikari.

Hikari didn't like it when she cried all the way home and the next day Mommy had a meeting with her teacher.

She didn't like it when Mommy and Daddy sat her down after dinner one night and told her that she would be in a new class in the spring. A new teacher. A whole class of new students. "A fresh start", they said. A sicky feeling wiggled around in her tummy and she asked if she did something bad. Daddy promised she didn't. Mommy said they would try a new vitamin and see if maybe it would help her stay healthier.

Hikari liked the new vitamin. It looked like a smiley face and tasted like orange mochi. Onii-chan liked it too and Mommy scolded them when she caught the two of them sneaking extras. Hikari wasn't sure how it could be bad to eat good things, but Mommy said something about wasting money and Daddy put his stern face on, so they made sure to only eat one with breakfast.

Hikari loved the new dress and shoes Mommy and Daddy bought her for the first day of school. She twirled around in front of the mirror in her room until she got silly and giggly and couldn't stand up right. Mommy had to bribe her with two extra bedtime books to get her to change into her jammies that night.

The new vitamin didn't stop Hikari from getting sick.

She didn't like it anymore.

She didn't like the cold, achy, tired feeling that grabbed her tight and didn't let go until she was three days late for the new year.

Hikari wore her new shoes and dress for _her_ first day of school, but she didn't feel so pretty when her nose was stuffed up and her fingers were cold. She held Mommy's hand tight and their steps echoed down the empty hall, her backpack from last year weighing her down even though there was hardly anything in it. Mommy passed her off to her new teacher, and she held the woman's bigger, warmer hand while they introduced her to the class. Daddy had told her not to be em-bear-ist about being late and Hikari didn't really know what that meant, but if it was a word for feeling like she wanted to go hide under that table, she had it bad. Hopefully Daddy wouldn't find out.

Hikari's belly was doing some kind of dance all morning. It made her mouth not want to open and her fingers twisted her dress so much it wrinkled.

When Hikari sneezed a big sneeze at lunchtime, the girl next to her scrunched her whole face up and said _ew_ , really huffy. Hikari rushed to get the tissues Mommy had put in her pocket. She opened the little plastic holder and tried to keep the tears in her eyes instead of on her face.

"You like Totoro?" A happy gasp made her look up.

The boy next to her on the other side was bouncing in his seat. He was sitting on his knees in the chair, which Mommy told her not to do in school, but maybe his Mommy let him.

Hikari looked back down at the tissues, Totoro's wide smile grinning up at her from the plastic wrap.

She nodded, and maybe her mouth made a little smile.

* * *

Hikari liked Takeru.

He was sweet and happy and loud. Sometimes he was too loud and her ears hurt, but he always said sorry and patted her arm and sucked his lips into his mouth.

She liked how everything made him giggle and how once he started, he couldn't stop until long after the teacher asked him to stop and put her face in her hands.

She liked that she was taller than him and that he didn't get mad at her about it. He just said he would be super-duper tall like his Daddy when he got big.

She loved that he got the hiccups all the time and he would hang upside down on the playground until they went away because that's what his Onii-chan told him to do. Hikari tried it too and Mommy made her wear shorts under her dresses after that.

Takeru colored his teeth with a crayon one day, and Hikari laughed so hard her face hurt. Then she did it too and they laughed until the chairs couldn't hold all their silly and they slid onto the floor. They got in trouble and the teacher tattled to Hikari's mother, but Hikari giggled all the way home and Mommy's voice didn't sound all that mad anyway. Daddy snuck her half of his dessert that night.

Once in a while Takeru did something Hikari didn't like, but it was okay because Mommy and Daddy and Onii-chan all told her that nobody could be happy all the time. Hikari knew it was okay to be sad.

She still didn't like it when Takeru was late to school, his eyes wide like something scary had happened, and his mama all whispery and in a hurry. On those days Takeru was slow and quiet and just wanted to sit near Hikari until he felt better. It helped if Hikari held his hand or read him a book. He couldn't read as much as she could, but that was okay too because she had been to preschool before and this was his first year.

Hikari really liked it when Mommy opened the mail one day and she found out she was invited to Takeru's birthday party. Onii-chan and Daddy helped her wrap the stuffed Totoro she found, and Mommy drove her over to Takeru's house. It was a weird party, Takeru's mama was on the phone the whole time and his Daddy wasn't there, but his onii-chan, Yamato, was very nice to her and there was cake, so it really wasn't so bad. Takeru gave her a big hug and put the Totoro on his bed for safe keeping.

Hikari still didn't like getting sick all the time, but now when she came back to school there were cards on her desk full of words like "feel better!" and "we missed you!" It made her heart feel warm and fluttery and she couldn't stop wiggling in her seat even though a lot of the time she still didn't feel all better yet. Takeru's drawings always had a big sun with a happy face in them and Hikari thought they looked just like him. That felt like a secret though.

One day Takeru's mama had an angry whisper with the teacher in the hallway and waved a crumpled paper around. Hikari pretended to read her book, but Takeru was sitting real quiet at his desk and had a face on him that made Hikari feel like she was in trouble too even though she was way over here. Takeru's mama crumpled the paper up and threw it in the trash before she left. When the teacher told everyone to get their show and tell for morning meeting, Hikari made sure no one was watching and snatched the paper from the bin. Her heart felt too big and too small at the same time when she saw a big orange thing and a green thing with wings. Hikari knew what that was, and that was a secret too.

* * *

Hikari didn't like that she couldn't stop coughing. It was chilly that morning and Takeru let her wear his mittens at playtime. Her fingers weren't cold anymore, but the air in her lungs tickled like feathers and made her itchy on the inside.

Everybody said it was nice and warm the next day, but Hikari felt cold anyway. The teacher let her wear her jacket in the classroom and made Mom faces at her all the time. Takeru read her the only book he could read over and over again even when they were supposed to be doing other things. It scared Hikari that the teacher didn't make them stop.

When Hikari started crying at afternoon snack and she didn't even know why, the teacher called her house.

Hikari went home early that day.

Hikari didn't like how Mommy had to run out to get her more medicine and left her home, even if Onii-chan was supposed to be home in just a few minutes.

She really did like when Onii-chan took her outside to play. She was tired but felt much warmer now that she was home. She liked it right up until she fell down.

Hikari did not like the noise the ambulance made, or the serious voices the ambulance people talked with, or the big mask they said she couldn't touch.

Hikari hated the hospital. She hated the bed and the beeping and how everything was so big, and it made her feel so so small, even if she was taller than Takeru.

She pretended not to hear Mommy shout at Onii-chan but promised to herself to say sorry later. It wasn't his fault she was sick. He just wanted to cheer her up.

Hikari did however, like the sunshine face balloon and 'Feel better!' card she woke up to the next morning.

* * *

The teacher let her take naps at snack time for a while when Hikari went back to preschool. She didn't like feeling like a baby, but she did feel a lot better after she woke up.

She didn't always feel like running around on the playground, but Takeru always did. So he said they could 'com-pr-mize', which was a big word Daddy taught him, and he would jump up and down next to the bench where Hikari rested, and tell her a story while he bounced.

That made even the teacher laugh. He was good at that.

Hikari really liked Takeru.

She didn't like when he started coming in late more and more.

Or when he started crying for no reason in the middle of story time.

Or when he suddenly kicked down her block tower. But then he made a scared face and said sorry so many times she told him to 'shut up', which she wasn't allowed to say, but Takeru stopped.

Hikari didn't understand why the teacher kept telling Takeru he was doing a good job when he was getting in trouble so much now. It felt too big and wrong, but she didn't know why.

Hikari didn't like when one morning she got to school and Takeru was already there. He was late so much that him being early felt too different. Hikari extra didn't like it when she saw he was already crying, and the teacher had a big pile of tissues on his desk and was sitting in a little kid chair that made her knees go all the way up to her chin. Hikari hung up her bag and tiptoed over with her hands behind her back, trying to look innocent. She didn't know if she was allowed over there, or if they needed to be private, but when she looked like this, Daddy never got grumpy.

Takeru was always early after that.

* * *

When Hikari told Daddy that Takeru cried a lot, Daddy sighed and said some people were just 'sensitive', and that meant Takeru had a lot of feelings. He said to be extra nice to him next time somebody made him cry.

When Hikari said that nobody was making Takeru cry, sometimes he cried during story time, or at snack, or when they were sorting shapes, Mommy and Daddy looked at each other and it made Hikari nervous.

They said to give him lots of hugs.

So, she did.

It worked like her vitamins. Takeru loved the hugs at first. They made him cheer up and giggle and want to play again. And then after a little while they lost their power.

* * *

Takeru was late.

Hikari missed him at morning meeting.

She missed him when it was her turn to change the weather chart.

She missed him when she didn't have a partner to color their color wheel with.

She missed him at snack.

Takeru arrived right after they came in from the playground, hand squeezing his mama's as tight as he could. He looked like he wanted to go home already. Hikari ran to give him a hug, but before she got there, he turned and hugged his mama's leg instead.

Hikari didn't like that, but Takeru was sad and Hikari didn't _always_ want a hug when she was sad, so it was okay. But Takeru didn't want to let go of his mama, and when the teacher had to pick him up, Hikari's toes curled up in her shoes and she tiptoed backwards to her desk.

The teacher hugged Takeru tight herself and laid him on Hikari's nap mat over by the reading rug, which was wrong because it was time to practice writing. And when Hikari got the courage to slip out of her chair and crawl over to him, that was bad too, because the teacher saw and didn't make her go back to her desk.

Takeru napped all afternoon and the teacher never told Hikari to do anything.

Hikari's heart did a funny flip flop when Takeru woke up. All the time he was sleeping, she was practicing how to cheer him up and give him the biggest, bestest hug ever, and now it was time to show him.

Except, Takeru sat up and looked around like the room was the scariest thing he had ever seen instead of the fun, colorful room Hikari saw.

And then he burst into the biggest crying Hikari had ever seen. It was too big to be coming out of Takeru. It made Hikari want to cry too, and she wanted him to stop because it was too loud and her ears hurt and he wasn't stopping to say sorry like he was supposed to. Everybody was looking at them and Hikari didn't want them to, so she grabbed Takeru and tried to give him the best hug anyway in case that would work.

It didn't.

The tighter she hugged, the louder he cried, and Hikari's heart was going really fast when the teacher suddenly told her to let go. She scrambled back into the bookcase, a little worried she had squeezed too hard and was in trouble. But the teacher just picked Takeru up and then she was on the phone like the day Hikari went to the hospital.

Another teacher came in and told them that they got to all go out and play extra today. Almost everybody was happy about it, but the teacher was started walking Takeru up and down the hallway and holding him and all his things like he was going home, so Hikari couldn't be happy. The new teacher gave her her jacket and mittens and gave her gentle pushes to go outside when she was the only one left in the classroom. Hikari compromised. She went outside but she didn't play. She stood at the window and watched Takeru and the teacher walk circles around the room.

Hikari's nose was cold from pressing it on the glass when Takeru's mama hurried into the class, and Hikari chewed the zipper on her jacket when she saw that Takeru's mama kind of looked like she was crying too. Takeru's mama took Takeru and all his things, and then did something funny that meant something that Hikari didn't really understand.

She gave the teacher a hug.

And then she turned and took Takeru out the door.

And Hikari waited.

And waited.

And waited.

And Takeru never came back.

Hikari didn't know what divorce meant.

But she knew she didn't like it.

* * *

 **This is like the antithesis of A Hundred Seconds of Love, yikes. I broke my happy ending rule too. I mean, logically we know that they meet again and become best buddies and things get better, but OOF.**

 **For those of you who remember me jabbering on about a preschool fic years ago, this is the condensed version. It was originally going to be like six or so chapters and a stand alone fic, but it felt better like this.**

 **Sorry if I made anyone cry. I made me cry too.**


End file.
